Cumulus Academy II: Behind a Closed Door
by Kawaii Kitsune Cub
Summary: Gee, time flies, ne? Welcome back to our illustrious academy, with a new scheme well on its way. Who can afford to have a rest these days?
1. Rain

Disclaimer: I do not want to spend the effort to come up with individual, witty disclaimers this year, so this one lasts for the entire fic. Don't like it? Make up your own.

Quote of the Week: "The Polish man who won a Gold Medal in pole vaulting was so happy, that he went home and bronzed it." -Roadkill, WZLX rock

Well, this is all fine and dandy, isn't it? Who's in school already? ::counts number of raised hands:: I feel for you guys...

::coughs:: Yes, well, I know I got this started a little late, but this will be one of the few (if any) delays for this fic. I swear. No more moving, and my laptop shall be on the road to recovery soon, so there will be no month-long breaks. If I begin to lag to less than one update a week, or skip a week or two, feel free to verbally abuse me (as long as you have a reason!).

Now... where were we? Ah, yes... the tantei, with help from their friends, had been sent to Cumulus Academy, and who should be behind the entire undead army in the making, but the headmaster, Givanni. Ain't that a kick in the crotch? ... moving along... Not only had Kurama found a potential girlfriend during his stay, but the entire group has made some rather unusual accomplices. Still, life has been a bit boring since their return home - with no sign of Givanni in any of the three worlds. Maybe all that will change...

Rain splattered the window, smearing the grays of an overcast, starless sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance, although there was no flash of light to accompany it, and Yusuke sighed in unison with one such rumble.

So far, Koenma had gotten nothing ever since Givanni had escaped from the academy last June, and even the mail from his friends overseas had diminished. Not that he really could complain; he supposed it was his fault for telling Chrysanthemum to skip on the big words when she wrote, since dragging out the dictionary was certainly not how he wished to spend any afternoon. And after Justin's first (disastrous) attempt to call his house, word had passed along that it was a bad idea.

Of course, the memory of when the teen had tried to contact him always brought a chuckle... Yusuke bet it had taken all of Justin's willpower to keep from snapping while on the phone.

Now, he was stuck inside during a rainstorm in late august. For the last week it had been nothing but scattered storms and unbearable humidity, and he had even been so bored as to crack open the book Kurama had leant him.

"Yusuke, stop moping." Keiko's voice snapped him out of his reverie of last year's school days. "You should try to look over our work from last year - you're going back to that school, right?"

Yusuke had to admire Keiko; she had been unnaturally patient and understanding when his mission last year had whisked him away to another land - the barrier worlds - for nearly nine months. During that entire time he had missed her -- although he would never admit it in front of his other buddies-- and coming back had been a relief for him.

But the studying...

"Yeah, yeah... I know." He rolled his eyes and turned back to the window, pupils shrinking as the lightning finally kicked in. He had almost gone back into his stupor when Keiko's voice once again interrupted him.

"You are going to come home every once and a while this time, hm?"

"Of course... whatever." He shrugged, running hand through his hair, which for once wasn't slicked back. If he had bothered to look, he would have noticed the narrowing of the girl's eyes, but the tone of her voice gave indication enough. "It's not just a "whatever". You can at least come back for Christmas."

"Uh..." the delinquent tensed, expecting a sharper retort to follow, but relaxed and turned to Keiko. "Fine, I'll come back for Christmas, happy?"

"Don't make it sound like a chore, Yusuke."

With a sigh, the teen stood up from the windowsill and stretched, wincing as his neck cracked. The lightning illuminated the room, and through his open door, Yusuke could see the entire apartment go black. An impossibly loud bass tone reverberated through the floor, and he groaned.

"Great - the power went out." He glowered over at the floor lamp in the far corner of his room, as if to blame it for the lack of electricity, and walked out into the kitchen. "Hey, Keiko, is there a flashlight in there?" He called over, pulling one from a cabinet next to the refrigerator, and clicked the button, sweeping the narrow beam of light across the floor. There was a muffled "yes" from his bedroom, and the brunette came out with an identical flashlight, which she annoyingly shone in his eyes for a second before turning it away and apologizing.

"Well, this bites." Yusuke caught himself looking at the clock on the microwave, then hastily pressed a button on his wristwatch, instead, making the digital face light up an eerie green. It was nearly one in the morning. If it still wasn't summer vacation, Yusuke knew that Keiko would have been home well over three hours ago, and he was glad she had stayed to keep him company - even though it was mostly a shared silence.

Another deafening crash of thunder, almost at the same second as the lightning, and Yusuke faintly recalled sound traveling slower than light, so if the two were that close together...

Well, there was no doubt the lightning had hit close to home, perhaps even the roof of the apartment building him and Atsuko lived in. With an unintelligible grumble, the spirit detective sprawled out on the couch and set the flashlight down on the floor beside him. Keiko wasn't far behind, and she set herself on a cushion on the floor next to the coffee table, reading over her notes with the flashlight in one hand.

The lightning flared up again, and before the thunder, Yusuke heard a loud thunk as something hit the living room window, and managed to spot a large black shadow with the beam of his flashlight before the offending (and blind) bird flapped off into the storm. Keiko had jumped considerably from the sudden noise, and scooted her cushion and notes closer to the couch, the hand holding the flashlight still trembling a little as if she expected something to crash through the window at any moment.

It was then that Yusuke realized what a toll his entire affairs with the underworld must had taken on her mostly normal life, and inwardly cringed in guilt as he remembered what a target she'd been in his past escapades. Suzuka and the saint beasts were always a good example... and almost any of the thugs he had beat down knew that Yusuke had some sort of connection with the top student at Sarayashi high.

He was jolted out of this current train of thought rather rudely, as another thump, this time from the front door, filled the airspace. The two teens, about ready to ignore it and go on to their own doings, stiffened as the sound of the doorknob slowly grinding broke the silence. There were a few faint clicks, and Yusuke silently got up from the couch, motioning for Keiko to stay quiet, as if she could really see him through the darkness, and hefted the metal flashlight for use as a club. Even then, in the dark, a faint collection of blue energy radiated towards his fingertip.

Lightning crashed again, and the door slowly swung open. Yusuke threw it open expertly, his rei gun instantly targeted at the victim's chest, then paused.

Whoever was in front of his door was vaguely familiar; he had a lean frame and was nearly taller then Yusuke, his light unruly hair and his leather jacket drenched from the rain, a soaked backpack slowly forming a puddle on the carpeted hall. From the instant the young male gave a wry grin and a casual "Hey..." Yusuke knew exactly who had come visiting at such an unusual hour, and quickly moved to catch the young man as he fell forwards, gray-green eyes half-lidded.

"Y-Yusuke, who..?" Keiko had suddenly appeared next to him in the dark, a hand on the shoulder of their guest's rain-washed jacket; the back of her hand instantly brushed away the blond hair from his forehead, and her brown eyes softened. "Oh, he has a fever..."

"Keiko, get his bag, will'ya? And maybe could you get an extra set of clothes from my room?"

Shouldering his load without difficulty, Yusuke gently set the soggy mess that was Rogerik down on the floor.

A short chapter, I know. But, I'm happy to get back on track. Review if you wish - and I'm hoping to see a few new faces as well.


	2. You have to start somewhere

Quote of the week: "If all else fails, smile - it confuses your enemies." -random T-shirt

Eep... Sorry about the long wait. I died. ;; Yeah, right.... that's it.

With a groan, he turned over, burying his face deeper in the pillows. It took only a few seconds for his mind to recognize the sensation of ice-cold water trickling down the back of his neck, and with a shudder, his eyes jerked open. Still, all he could see was darkness - black; although, there was a slight pink tint around the edges where light filtered in.

One hand untangled itself from cotton sheets and pulled off the damp pink hand towel that had been draped over his forehead and eyes, and Rogerik slowly sat up, confusedly staring around the room. It was unfamiliar... utterly plain, save for a book propped up on the shelf in the corner and a picture that had been left on the nightstand. The thief picked up the photo, set in an inexpensive frame, and realized that he could place some of the faces with names; Kuwabara, Kurama, Yusuke, even Hiei was visible in the far corner.

"Oh, you're awake." A girl, probably not much older than himself, stepped into the room with a tray of soup and glass of ice water. "Here, this is breakfast. But, take your temp before you eat." She took the hand towel from Rogerik and handed him a slim white case - which turned out to hold an electric thermometer. He dutifully stuck it in his mouth.

"I'm surprised you managed to find your way here... you were burning up last night when you stumbled in." The girl chatted on, and Rogerik found her to be vaguely familiar... wait, this was Keiko, right? She was supposed to be Yusuke's girlfriend, or so he'd heard, despite protests and denies from the spirit detective. "Guess I must've gotten worse when I was outside. Sorry about that; I should have called a cab, but I was broke at the time..."

"Yeah, well you're lucky I didn't just kick you back out." the drawl came from the opposite room, and Yusuke, his hair free of the grease that normally slicked it back, poked his head in. "Ma and I don't have the money for you to be staying here for long."

"...I missed you too, Yusuke." The complaint was answered with wry humor, and both boys were fine to leave it at that. Keiko, however, turned on the former delinquent. "Yusuke, behave for once! There might have been a reason he came here, you know!"

"I doubt it." there was a loud 'bing!' from the other room, which Rogerik supposed was the kitchen, and Yusuke left, appearing in the doorway after a few seconds, a piece of toast half-crammed in his mouth. Keiko went to mouth off, but looked at her watch and her eyes widened. "Oh, I should call my parents! They were expecting me home in a few minutes." She stood up, taking the face cloth with her, and inclined her head to Rogerik. "I'll be back in a second."

Yusuke swallowed, and before taking another bite, asked, "So, why did you decide to just wander around the middle of town during a thunderstorm, anyways?"

"No reason in particular. Things were just a little rough around home."

"Uh-huh..." He finished his toast and disappeared into the kitchen. "Whatever... just make yourself at home."

"Uh, thanks..." he heard something fall on the couch, and heard the TV go on. With a sigh, Rogerik swung his feet over to the side of the bed and cautiously got to his feet, unsure whether or not he felt well enough to chance walking. To his chagrin, Keiko suddenly appeared in the doorway and gave him a stern look.

"And what do you think you're doing?"

"Er..."

"Get back to bed, Rogerik! You're probably still sick!" Before he could budge, she had swooped down on him and gently pushed him back down on the bed, taking the thermometer from him at the same time. Her brown eyes read the digital display, and she gave him a motherly look. "Ninety-nine point seven... back to sleep, you." She swept back out the door, and when Rogerik was about to curl up to sleep, he heard her shout back: "And don't forget to eat your soup!"

"Yes, ma'am." It was a half joke, really, but Keiko shut the door with surprising force.

"Hey, Yusuke?"

"Hm?" Yusuke didn't bother to turn away from the TV, now munching on a second piece of toast. "What is it, Keiko?"

"Don't you think Rogerik's parents will get worried that he suddenly ran off?"

Yusuke swallowed and shook his head. "Nah, he told me he lives with his older sister, and she ain't too fond of him."

"Oh... that's kind of upsetting." Keiko sat down next to Yusuke, flipping through her Trigonometry textbook. "I mean, Kuwabara lives in kind of the same circumstances, but I know Shizuru would have called by now, at least."

"Yeah, well, like I said-"

The phone rang from it's hook, cutting off what Yusuke was about to say, and Keiko ran over. She picked it up off the hook, and the spirit detective could hear snatches of a conversation. With a grumble, Yusuke turned down the volume of the TV and watched it with narrowed eyes, eating his toast as if to dispel the frustration of never being able to get out a complete sentence.

"Oh, hello... er, um, yes, he's here? May I ask who's calling? Hikaru Lewis? Oh, you must be Rogerik's sis- well, yes he's fine. He has a bit of a fever, but he's sleeping now. I can tell him you called... nooo... he's getting plenty of fluids. No, I don't know why he was out last night, either; he said he couldn't afford a cab, so he walked here... there weren't any police either... a-alright, I'll tell him to all you back as soon as he wakes up." Keiko hung the receiver back up and looked over at Yusuke, who was focused on the TV, and only the TV.

"Yusuke, why would the police possibly be following Rogerik?" her tone was uneven, but Yusuke shrugged. "I dunno; haven't heard form him all summer. He didn't leave a phone number, and... I don't remember giving him my address." Now his voice was thoughtful, and he looked over at Keiko. "Look, just don't worry. His sister is prob'ly exaggerating."

"Yeah, but it's kinda weird, huh?"

The voice came from the balcony of the high-rise apartment, and Keiko stifled a yelp as the doors to the balcony burst open, vines curling around the doorframe. Yusuke, however, instantly jumped up, toast falling to the floor, ready to let loose a spirit gun at the familiar tone. He nervously walked over, finger at ready, and peeked out the door - then facefaulted.

There, in all his might and glory, sat Lionel; the neko was wearing fairly normal clothes, except for the overly large corduroy cap that was _supposed_ to cover his furry golden cat ears, but was now tilted at a rakish angle, one ear poking out. His tail twitched behind him, and his pants, which were ragged and frayed at the hem, were barely long enough to cover his tawny cat's paws. Of course, if that wasn't strange enough, the twin was sitting in a giant gnarled tree - something that shouldn't suddenly be poking up over the balcony of an apartment on the twenty-something-ish floor.

"W-w-wha..?"

"Oh, uh, sorry about the tree." Lionel flicked at a large leaf in emphasis and shrugged. "Besides the no-animal rule, the elevator wasn't working, and I was too lazy, sooo..."

"B-but the tree..."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I know." The cat jumped down, nimbly leaping from one branch to the next, then gracefully balancing on the railing as if he were an Olympic gold-medallist (although Yusuke doubted any human could perform such a feat). He dropped down from the railing, and inclined his head towards Keiko, sweeping the hat off with a flourish. "Lionel Aurata, nice to meet you."

"Well, I..." Keiko stepped back, a little lost for words, then bowed back. "A pleasure to meet you. I'm Keiko Yukimura." Lionel cocked his head at her, his left ear twitching, then glanced over at Yusuke.

"Hey, dude, isn't she your "girlfriend" that you were complaining about? The one that kept nagging you to keep up in class?"

"Ah, no, no! I never meant that!" Yusuke's hands shot up in the classic harmless pose, but it was a little too late for that. Within milliseconds, the damage was done and Yusuke was sitting on the floor with a red handprint on his cheek. Keiko huffed, and left the balcony, telling the two boys that she was going to check on Rogerik and, if he wasn't asleep, tell him that his sister called.

Seeing as Yusuke looked unconscious, Lionel bent down and poked him cautiously with a claw. "Are you okay..?" The cat's hair and fur bristled as the spirit detective sat up, and jumped away with a hiss.

"No, I'm just fine and dandy! What do you think?"

"Sorry..." Lionel crammed his hat back on, and mumbled something to the tree, which suddenly started to shrink away. When Yusuke looked down, he was shocked to see the behemoth plant try to fit it's way back into what was left of the little pot that had sheltered it - from it's humble beginnings as a bonsai.

The cat paid no mind, and wandered inside, curiously looking around the kitchen, then hopping on top of the counter and making himself comfortable. "Hey, I wanted to make sure you knew when the bus to pick you up was coming."

"What bus?" As far as the spirit detective knew, it was Koenma that had arranged for a ride for him and his companions - public transportation might have proved to be too dangerous. The cat sighed and stretched his arms, yawning widely.

"Chys wanted me to make sure you got on the bus tomorrow morning. I'm guessing right that you had no idea."

"Yeah... but isn't it kind of late for the year to start?" Yusuke doubtfully looked over at the calendar that hung on the kitchen wall, and Lionel shrugged. "They were busy over the summer - what with Givanni suddenly up and missing like that."

'So he still doesn't have a clue about what happened...' Well, Yusuke wasn't so surprised at that, seeing as the topic hadn't been mentioned outside of the teachers' lounge, if even that. To suddenly learn that your former headmaster had gotten it into his head to dismantle the academy from the inside-out, putting hundreds of students in danger, including yourself; it would send some people over the edge, and generally cause panic and turmoil all over.

"But," the cat was oblivious to Yusuke's sudden thinking session, and raised a claw in emphasis. "I heard that Rogerik showed up, too. That wasn't supposed to happen, you see."

"Uh-huh... So, do you have any letters or anything?" the spirit detective pulled a chair out and sat down, propping his feet up on the kitchen table.

"Right! Just give me... a minute..." Lionel reached into his pants pocket, then something between a look of pained realization and dread crept across his features as he checked his other pockets. "Damn... Must've lost it... Chrys is gonna kill me." He shrugged and nervously chuckled. "Sorry, man."

"Nah, it's no problem. I'll just call Kuwabara."

"Oh? What about Kurama? He's sure to have been on it for nearly two weeks now."

Yusuke waved a hand, rolling his eyes. "Personally, I don't know where that guy is. Called his house, but his ma only told me that he went on a trip for the international youth-league ambassadors association - or some other high-and-mighty group."

"He never gets a rest."

Yusuke shrugged and balanced the chair on its back two legs. 'Well, truth is, it's probably a cover-up for Koenma..' The idea tossed itself back and forth in his head, since the two boys were in the middle of a most awkward silence. It was so quiet that, when Keiko stepped out of Yusuke's room with a tray and empty bowl, he almost fell off his teetering chair as she shut the door behind her.

"Ah, so he's awake, then." Keiko ignored him for the most part, making a beeline for the sink and leaving the bowl to soak. "Yes, he's awake. He didn't like the idea of his sister finding out where he was, though."

"Like I said, they aren't close-"

"No, he said he was planning on leaving if his sister called again. He didn't want to bother us anymore than he had to - in his own words, mind you. But he went back asleep before I left."

This time the chair did tip, but it wasn't from what Keiko had said. In fact, when she looked over at the former delinquent, he wasn't even aware of his own slip; his eyes, as well as those of the cat demon who was seated on the counter-top, were riveted upon the TV. Yusuke got up, scrambled over to the couch for the remote, and turned up the volume.

"Authorities managed to rescue what little footage on the security cameras as they could last night; they seemed to have been scrambled by a sudden surge of electromagnetic waves, at the same time a heist was pulled off, leaving the Mushimori Art museum short one scroll that is dated back to the chinese Ming Dynasty. The exhibit, which was scheduled to open today, was on loan from the Hong Kong Museum of Fine Arts..."

The reporter was of no concern; however, since a small window in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen, most likely taken from the security tapes themselves, showed a slender, almost lanky, figure in silhouette. The news reporter droned on, and Keiko even looked up, not realizing what the problem was until the reporter stated, "This footage, with permission from the police, was taken just last night, at roughly one AM..."

Now she could recognize the fluid movements of the thief onscreen, despite the static; he was dressed in everyday clothes - no mask or attempt to hide his identity at all - and since it was so dark, nothing could really be made out when it came to his features.

But, one stray beam of moonlight managed to catch him in the eyes, just as he had looked up at the camera, with a look oddly reminiscent of pride and smugness. In that look, there was no way, in his mind or knowledge, that anyone would catch him. After all it was his livelihood, and he had excelled top in his class -- never mind the natural knack he had for getting past locks.

The room was utterly silent, and none of them bothered to look as the door to Yusuke's bedroom door swung open slightly, and those same eyes, albeit bloodshot and with an air of tiredness, stared out at their reactions. He hadn't fallen asleep right after, as Keiko had thought, and the faint din of the TV had wormed its way through the crack in the door.

Still without a response from Yusuke, Keiko, or Lionel, Rogerik gently shut the door and sat against the windowsill, toying with the strings binding together a yellowed scroll.

"Heh, uh, Yusuke?" Lionel managed to snap out of the TV-induced shock and, without breaking his gaze from the screen, allowed probably the most ill timed request to come forth from him.

"D'ya mind if I just kinda... y'know, crash here for the night?"

Ne, and who's been a bad boy? But, anywho, Lyonell is back, and that's all I care about. Hee-hee... crud, I'm giddy over a freakin' cat...

But I don't care 'cause he's coolio. XD

Review if you wish, and the plot may pick up sooner.


	3. The wheels on the bus

Sorry it took a while... I needed to get back in a Yu Yu Hakusho mood... Slayers is so addicting... and the time is so short. 

Quote of the Week: "Oh, God, I'm gonna be this old lady driving down the street, head banging and listening to Metallica and schtuff... that is gonna be SO AWESOME!" -Nickie

The funny thing is, imagine those people about forty years from now who turn on the ol' CD player and try to share the charms of Jarool and the Ying-Yang twins with their grandkids. That is gonna be freakin' scary...

Despite playing host to a cat demon and the same thief who had stolen a priceless piece of art just last night, Yusuke didn't lose any sleep. It seemed he had barely let his eyes close when the alarm clock shattered his well-earned rest.

And thus, now he was sitting on the corner in the way back of the industrial park, a large backpack by his feet and his two companions similarly packed (Well, Lionel claimed that he had gotten his bags on the bus much earlier), and it was only five in the morning. The silence surrounding the three of them was awkward, to say the least, and it didn't help that the sun hadn't even come up yet.

"Oi, Yusuke?" From somewhere in the trees up above, the cat shifted his position and called down to the spirit detective. When Yusuke let his gaze wander, he caught the tip of a golden-furred tail twitching among the dark green leaves, and the edge of the cat's olive-green shirt. "What is it?"

"Have you seen any of the others during the summer?"

"I told you that already; no." Yusuke was already annoyed, and repeating answers was starting to grate on his nerves. "Kuwabara didn't even show his face at the arcade. His buddies told me he was taking summer classes."

Rogerik, shut off in his own little world while sitting at the curb, chuckled. "Now that's something you wouldn't expect."

"You're one to talk." The response was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and Yusuke watched the grin fade from Rogerik's face. More silence followed, and cars passed by as the early risers – janitors, most probably – drove into the various parking lots. A bird or two chirped, the sun slowly rose, and the sky turned a shade somewhere between peach and lavender.

Somewhere, off to the right, footsteps sounded in the dark; all three waiting students tensed, Yusuke saw the tip of Lionel's tail disappear into the leafy branches, and Rogerik suddenly became very interested in the stitching on his sneakers, all the while his aura faintly simmering.

"Well, it seems like I'm a little late." The words flowed smoothly, and calmed the tenseness of the other three. Yusuke turned to face the speaker, his smirk turning into a genuine smile. "Kurama, where have you been all this time, you dog?"

The kitsune was wearing casual clothes instead of his Meiou high uniform, an average-sized backpack settled on his shoulders, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "It's been a while, Yusuke." Kurama had a gentle smile on his face, his green eyes bright and full of life. "I was busy; my mother has gotten married, you see, and I was busy in reikai for personal reasons." Personal reasons – a way of avoiding the topic of Givanni around others.

There was a violent shaking from the tree, and Lionel's head poked out from the branches, his corduroy hat jammed over his feline ears. "Cool." He disappeared for a second, then swung down from an overhanging branch and landed on his paw-like feet. "Hey, have you heard anything about the bus schedule?"

The fox pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to the cat, still smiling. "Yes, your sister e-mailed me an extra copy. She was guessing you'd lose yours." Lionell grimaced, and begrudgingly took the bus schedule from Kurama's hand. "Thanks..."

"Hey! You guys!" all four of the teen boys looked over, and sweatdropped at the scene before them. Kuwabara, the big lug, was running as fast as he could, a large suitcase in tow and a familiar white snake-like creature diving in mid-air around his head. The redhead screeched to a halt before them, hands on his knees and breathing heavily, while the white dragonling took its perch on the top of his over-sized backpack and let out a merry chirp.

"Uh..." Well, there wasn't really much to say, was there? Although Yusuke was definitely sure that wherever the little dragon wandered, she was never far from her "mother". Now where could the little punk b-

"Hn. Mara, get away from that oaf." It was as if a black shadow had suddenly appeared on the wall, so silent was the demon's arrival. Hiei gave his charge a demanding stare, which, despite his blood-red eyes, seemed less harsh than the spirit detective usually saw; Mara let another happy trill escape her maw, her bright blue eyes illuminating in the dim morning light, and fluttered over to Hiei, where she took a comfortable roost in his mess of pitch-black hair.

Yusuke was about to ask what Hiei had been doing for the last three-or-so months, but gave it up, imagining the conversation in his mind...

'So, how're you?'

'Hn.'

'Uh-huh...'

'...nice weather, huh?'

'Shut up.'

Yep; that about summed up a "talk" with the youkai.

Lyonell sighed, leaning against the wall, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, we're all here, so what's keeping the bus?"

"You're kidding me, right? It's only about half-past five." Yusuke looked over to the cat. Kurama took one hand out of his jacket pocket to check his watch, and stated, "He's right; it should have been here a few minutes ago, actually." There was an audible groan from both Yusuke and Kuwabara, and the latter moodily muttered, "Well, I'm sleeping on the bus -- whenever the darned thing gets here-"

The streetlights shut off in unison, and for a moment, everything was quiet; a total silence that, no matter how hard you listened, you couldn't even hear your own heartbeat, as if some invisible shield had blocked out every sound known to man. For a faint moment, Yusuke felt his mouth moving, forming some very creative expletives indeed, and then, where there was once an empty street, a large black coach bus with a flaming skull and crossbones decaled on the windshield and ebon-shaded windows was suddenly parked in the middle of the road. Five of them shared glances (Hiei was pretending as if the bus hadn't bothered him at all) and Mara gave a small shriek, burying her delicate muzzle into Hiei's hair.

They were still staring at the bus as the doors swung open, and the sound of talking and joking from inside could float out into the street. The bus driver, a rather intimidating middle-aged man with a thick mustache and beard, leather vest, and mirror-lens sunglasses, tapped his fingers on the eight-ball shaped clutch handle. He leaned back in the seat, scratched the side of his bald, bandanna-covered head, and pulled a clip book out from next to his chair. "So... let's see, here." His voice was deep, slightly gravely, and Yusuke was reminded of the old-fart bikers that hung around the beach roads during the summer. "uh-huh... Jaganshi, Kuwabara, Lewis, Minamoto, and Urameshi..." The driver flipped through the clip-book, marking off names until he took a look at Lyonell.

"Oh, you."

"Er... yeah. Hi?"

The driver gave Lyonell an accusing look, then jabbed a thumb towards the back of the bus. "Better go talk to your sister; she's been worried sick about you, and has been taking it out on the rest of us." The cat meekly slunk up the stairs, and out of sight, but there was a yowl and the familiar sharp hiss of "You idiot!", and Yusuke could imagine Lyonell being dragged towards the back of the coach bus.

There was a rattle, and a side panel of the bus' obsidian frame slid up to reveal a storage compartment full of randomly tossed luggage; getting them back out and returned to their rightful owners would be murder. Yusuke tossed his larger bag in, and watched as Kuwabara did the same with the hiker's backpack (with no small effort). With a sigh, he trudged up the steps, turned the corner, and nearly shielded his brown eyes at the sight.

The interior, seat covers, even the ceiling... they were... tie-dyed.

Tie-dyed in bold, bright colors; the fabric was almost enough to make one want to rip one's eyes out; with a glance behind him, Yusuke noticed, with considerable amusement, that Hiei had a distasteful look on his features, and Mara hadn't moved her face from the youkai's messy hair.

From somewhere behind him, the spirit detective heard, "Yeah, it feels like the academy already... Damn, that hurts."

"Oi! Urameshi!" A familiar blob of red appeared from the midst of other students, and the windmaster stumbled out into the bus aisle, where he and Yusuke clasped hands and grinned. "Heard you had a bit of trouble this summer." Jin's blue eyes focused on Rogerik for a second, and Yusuke shrugged it off.

"Nothing much, really. How was your stay at Holly's?"

Jin scratched the back of his red mane of hair, the tips of his ears turning red. "Ah, well, it was... interesting."

"Uh-huh..." Yusuke suddenly felt like he was being swept out of the way, as the demon greeted his friends with the same energy as he had Yusuke. A little black furball leapt up on the back of a tie-dyed seat, a brass bell twinkling around his leather collar, and Yusuke felt the cat's green eyes lazily motion over to a few rows of empty seats near its own. No sooner had the spirit detective tossed his backpack in the seat across the row from where Jin's was, the black kitten jumped on his shoulders and dug its claws in. "Well, that's a fine hello there, Yusuke."

"Kyuro... so early, and yet you never miss a beat." He sweatdropped, scooping Kyuro by the scruff of the neck, and deposited him on the cat's seat. "Go find someone else, man."

"Oh, I plan to." The kitten yawned and kneaded his petite paws on a rumpled-up coat, then hastily jumped out of the way when a hand swept out via collision with his head. "'Tupid..." The mumble came from beneath a fleece blanket by the bus window, and Yusuke amusedly flipped the edge of the blanket off of the sleeping girl. "Rise and shine, Holly."

"Yusuke, you... j-j-jerk..." The witch fought back a yawn, gave Yusuke a nasty look, and curled back into a ball, the blanket tucked underneath her chin. "Leave me alone... I'm tired."

"Oh, I bet, with Jin hanging around and al-"

"Kyah!" A hand flipped up from the blankets, and there was a click as something rattled up on the overhead compartment. With another definite clack, the witch's broom floated down to levitate by her chair, then turned over on it's end and proceeded to try and beat Yusuke over the head with it's twiggy end until Kurama got between the two, tied the broom to the overhead compartment, and settled himself next to the bruised spirit detective; the fox placed his bag and jacket underneath his seat, and opened up a book. Ignoring the chaos of the bus around him, Kurama slipped into the world of his novel with an aggravatingly blank expression.

"C'mon, guys! Sing along! Sweeet Caroline --"

A miserable "Oh, oh, oh" chorused from the bus cabin, and Lyonell scurried up to sit in the aisle between Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Jin (Kurama had seen another "I Spy" game brewing between Kuwabara and Hiei, and had thought it best to separate the two.). How many more sing-alongs of "Sweet Caroline" would the bus driver force them to endure?

Apparently, an hour's worth. Yusuke had no idea just where they were at the moment; one minute they would be in suburbia, and the next they were picking up some kid who lived in a positive wasteland. At other times, the scenery out the window was a black void, and he remembered something about Chrysanthemum mentioning the walls between worlds.

Guessing by the time on Kurama's watch, nearly six hours had passed without event, although Holly finally did emerge from her blanket cocoon. When the spirit detective bothered to ask how long the trip took, there was never a straight answer - from any of the forty-something students. Again, this launched Chrysanthemum on this long tangent about different worlds and planes of existence (which most everyone tuned out remarkably) and tempted a short, snappish remark from Rogerik: at the very least, it made the cat sulk quietly in her seat, her eyes narrowed and practically glowing with anger.

And, when one just leaned back and let others make the snide comments, the ride was pretty darn amusing. Maybe Kyuro had something going for him after all...

Of course, to imagine jumping through different worlds (if Chrysanthemum was to be believed) was tiring, and if you thought jetlag was horrible... well, it was no surprise when the bus fell silent and the lights dimmed of their own accord. However, just a few rows up, even as his eyelids drooped, the tiny book light above Kurama's seat stayed lit, lighting the fox's hair a brilliant crimson.

"So... I take it Koenma hasn't had much luck finding Givanni, has he?" the question was barely above a whisper, and Hiei stubbornly staring out the window when he asked it; the fire youkai's ruby-eyed gaze stared back at him, reflected in the windows. Kurama didn't even bother looking up from his book, assured that no one else on the bus was awake.

"Oh, he's found plenty of Givanni; but that's the problem. They're all photographic clones of him."

"Clever, for a human." More silent staring out the window, and Hiei absentmindedly stroked Mara's feathery white mane while musing over the former headmaster. He himself had had no luck finding Givanni, and Koenma appeared genuinely clueless as to why the entire affair had occurred. Apparently, Givanni's files (and its copies) had gone missing years ago, and no one had thought of reporting it. Interrogations in Makai had proved fruitless, and there was nothing left behind that could clue one towards Givanni's location.

Kurama sighed, marked his place in his book, and gave Mara a scratch underneath her small chin. "We might as well get some sleep while we have the chance. The mess with Givanni can be cleaned up tomorrow morning." The fox looked at his watch, and shrugged. "Or later on tonight... I really should adjust the time on this; it's starting to run slow again."

A black shadow reached up, and the bus was pitched into total darkness.

"Just go to sleep, stupid fox."

I'll try and update as soon as possible, folks. But until then, check out Hakumei by Kohaku-san.

Gee, that was shameless advertising. ;; Review if you wish.


	4. Home again, home again

Quote of the week: "Now, kids, don't ever let your parents get away with telling you that radiation is bad. Just look at me!" - Mr. Grace (this is right before he had the spasm/fit, mind you.)

Grim: ... ::looks around:: ...crap. I thought I escaped from that girl...

KKC: pops up Oh, no, no... Grimmy, the readers missed you.

Grim: ::sighs:: You had writer's block again, didn't you?

KKC: - -;; shaddap.

Sunlight; damn... any minute now, Shizuru was going to rip off the sheets, tell him to make himself useful, and kick him out of the apartment.

Yep... any second now; you just had to wait.

Aaaaannnyyyy second...

"Hm?" He cocked one eye open, and almost yelped as bright sunlight assaulted his vision. Kuwabara whipped his head around, sending empty soda cans and snack food wrappers flying, and almost fell out onto the tie-dye-colored rug that ran down the bus aisle. There was a slight rustle above his head, somewhere on the seat between Jin and Holly, and a small cat landed on his head, staring into Kuwabara's eyes with his own green ones.

"Mornin', bucko."

"Ergh..." The redhead rolled his eyes, but was hoping no one else had been awake to notice what had just happened.

(Of course, all the while, Hiei was sitting quietly in his seat, hearing everything and snickering silently to himself in his mind.)

"So, Kuwabara, where's that bone-head of a dog of yours, eh? I haven't seen him around the entire trip up here."

"He's sleeping. What's it to you?" With a grunt, Kuwabara grabbed hold of his chair's armrest and yanked himself to his feet; the blue blanket was tangled around his ankles, and he irritatedly unwound them. The canine skeleton was tucked away in the overhead compartment, sleeping inside his backpack, next to his CD player. If anything, the tiny kitten had plans to torment poor Bones (after all, the skeleton wasn't the brightest of the bunch); it would be a waste of time to let the two go at it again.

Grabbing the kitten by the scruff of the neck, Kuwabara plopped back down in his seat and stared out the window. The empty void had changed to country scenery sometime during the night, and he couldn't make heads or tails of where he was. No familiar landmarks, no signs... he hoped the driver knew where they were going.

Crap... the driver! He was awake, right? Right?!

"Kyuro, go see if the driver's awake, now!"

The cat gave him a look that plainly said that "The Great" Kyuro didn't have to do anything Kuwabara "the Oaf" told him to. "It's obvious he's awake, numbskull," the cat drawled, letting his voice almost drop to a hiss on 'numbskull'. "If he wasn't, we wouldn't have seen the sun rise."

Okay, now the kitten was getting annoying. And he thought he liked cats...

"Yeah, whatever. I'm gonna go back to sleep." With a mumble, Kuwabara reclined his seat back and dozed off. Kyuro's furry face twisted into a sneer, and the cat trotted down the bus aisle; perhaps Mara would be an entertaining target...

Looking out the window, seeing all the other buses pull up, Yusuke couldn't help but laugh. Although his own bus was irritating to the eyes on the inside, the flaming skulls and black color weren't as totally ridiculous as some of the other vehicles; in front of their bus was a bright pink one, with (but, no, it couldn't be) dancing penguins painted on the sides; behind them was a silver one with see-through panels that showed the gears and machinations of the bus. A dark blue coach bus with a mural of what Yusuke supposed was a Sealord (a giant whale with eight sets of fins and six eyes) pulled up next to his bus, and he barely managed to make out the muted shadows moving behind the blue-tinted windows.

These guys had way too much time on their hands.

The drive in front of the main office was crowded, if not with vehicles and teachers, then with the steady flow of incoming students. The doors opened, accompanied by a whoosh of fresh air, air that had no taste of pollutants to it. Everyone was suddenly in a rush; bags that were strewn in the above compartments were hastily collected; all the passengers seemed to be up and moving at the same time; the bus was rapidly emptying. He was drawn out into the front drive, his muscles sore and joints stiff, and grabbed his bag when someone tossed it out to him from the open storage compartment beneath the bus.

Someone tapped his shoulder, and the spirit detective nearly turned around in a full circle before he caught sight of a passing Kurama, and he ran over to the fox. Kurama had managed to worm his way into a fairly empty pocket in the crowd; Hiei, Rogerik, and Kuwabara were already waiting among the numerous humans, youkai, and spirits. Mara circled overhead, chirping and mewing, while Holly and Jin floated above their heads.

"So... anyone have any idea what's going on?" Holly dipped her broom lower, to eye-level with the tantei and Rogerik. "I mean, I doubt there's going to be a clear and set schedule after what happened last year..."

"I say we find a teacher." Kyuro piped up, poking his furry mug out from Holly's messenger bag, and Jin nodded in agreement. "Good luck, then. I can't see anyone I recognize... eh?"

Rogerik looked up as Jin stared over the crowd, watching the shinobi's ears twitch. "What is it?"

"Well, I'll be..."

"What?"

The wind youkai didn't answer, and, instead, zoomed off, avoiding collision with many a winged student. The earth-bound roommates shared exasperated glances, and fought their way through the crowd, careful to keep the demon's brilliant red hair in view.

Finally, it looked as though they had nearly reached Jin, as the wind master was just floating in the air just beyond a large oak tree, when a blur of crimson shot out from nowhere and tackled Kurama, sending the fox sprawling on the cobblestones.

"Kurama-kun! Where've you been, buddy-o-mine?" The blur righted itself, and floated a few inches off the ground, auburn hair flying and two ruby-red blurs protruding from her back; a fairy. To be more precise: Aki.

"Ah, Aki... please, don't tackle me next time..." Kurama forced a smile, and got to his feet, only to have the foliage fairy cling onto his waist (much to the sweat-dropping amusement to the others). She hadn't changed much during the summer, although her once translucent wings, whose shape resembled that of a dragonfly's, were a deep scarlet.

"But I missed you soooooo much!"

"Oi, did I miss something?" the familiar accent was hoarsely whispered into his ear, and Yusuke grinned. "Not a thing. But, hey, where'd you go?"

Jin leaned back a bit, and cracked his knuckles, then sat in his usual cross-legged manner. "Thought I saw something weird... but Shikyo-sensei told us to hurry onto our dorms; classes start tomorrow, you know."

"So soon? Whatta pain..." Yusuke grumbled. Kurama, meanwhile, had been released from Aki's bear hug. Already, you could hear the shriek of another girl as the fairy tackled her.

Hiei, no doubt annoyed by the interlude, grumbled out, "No use wasting our time here. Let's go." From up above, the white dragonling alighted upon Hiei's shock of black hair, and whistled in agreement.

It was as if they had never left.

The house and shutters were still as purple as ever, and the same violet pansies that were growing in May were still in the window planters. Out front, the plum tree cast shade upon the dark green lawn, that plums in its boughs riper than when they had left, but that was perhaps the only change.

Again, just as if no time had passed, Lark had bounded down the stairs, her black hair wildly flying behind her, stormy eyes bright; Koryu had stuck his rat-like muzzle through the kitchen window, and him and Yusuke had begun their usual glaring match. Kyuro, wasting none of his precious time, had already curled up on the headrest of Kurama's unofficial armchair, and Bones (who had burst out of Kuwabara's bag and reassembled himself as soon as the house was in view) was now sprawled in front of the lifeless fireplace. Erika had encompassed each of them in a rib-crushing hug, even Hiei, and offered to take their bags, to which each of them declined.

And then, in the tantei's room, Yusuke had immediately acted upon the four's unspoken truce and got out the roll of duct tape, separating the room into four equal sections. Kuwabara and Yusuke took only enough time to assemble the duct tape and toss their bags on their respective beds (Hiei hadn't even bothered to go upstairs, seeing as he had no luggage) before running back downstairs, but Kurama hung back. There were bags to be unpacked and such.

"Kurama?" Ah, how could he ever forget her voice? It was so questioning, yet light and flowing, much like the very element she controlled. Feigning surprise, the redhead turned from the bureau and, with just one look into her dark blue eyes, a genuine smile came across his face. "Lyra, you look well."

An understatement, in his humble opinion; the girl had apparently just gotten out of the shower, since her long black braid was dripping water onto the carpet. The Admarant sister was dressed plainly in baggy jeans and a tie-dye T-shirt that was a few sizes too big for her (and reminded the fox of the bus' eye-straining interior). It was true, that saying about even the plainest things could be beautiful.

"Kurama!" Lyra ran forwards, expecting to hug the teen tightly around the waist in welcome, but a bright green flash of feathers appeared between the two and darted into the Kurama's hair. The fox yelped, anxiously untangling the small parrot from his crimson locks, and manage to catch the apologetic look on Lyra's face from between his bangs and the lovebird's furiously beating wings. The moment dreadfully ruined, Kurama stopped struggling with Salvatore and patiently waited as Lyra unclenched the last footholds of hair from her pet's grasp.

"I'm so sorry, Kurama. Salvatore's been a brat lately." The fox's green eyes were shadowed underneath his hair, and for a moment she stared at him awkwardly as he just stood there in silence. Then, a few small chuckles were heard, and soon both of them were laughing out loud.

"HEY! LOLLYGAGGERS! GIT DOWN HERE!" The shout reverberated throughout the house, startling both Lyra and Kurama out of their seemingly never-ending laughter. With a screech of protest, Salvatore took position on top of Lyra's head and flared out his wings. The water manipulator sighed and both her and Kurama trudged down the stairs.

In the kitchen, Erika had mysteriously produced a rather large cake, big enough to serve the entire household. And, of course, who should holler up the stairs at the top of her lungs, than Rachel. Things were never going to change around here; even amid the living hell the new headmistress' job had become with the new school year, she would always find some way to incorporate herself into their home life. No matter how much screaming and yelling it would take.

"Oi, fox-boy, do you want chocolate or vanilla?" Jin lifted a plate with a slice of cake on it above his head, and nearly jumped as a small bird flitted in through the kitchen window and landed on the plate, pecking nimbly away at the slice of cake balanced over the demon's head.

"Eh, oh, just you..." The wind master's grin slowly drooped as another sparrow flew in through the window... then another... and another... until, all in all, there were seven of them perched upon Jin's head and outstretched arm. The first one, now full with cake, hopped down and peered into Jin's sky-blue eyes, then gave the demon a peck on the nose and flew outside, followed by his entourage.

"Well, looks like someone's been busy over the summer..." Kyuro dryly commented, and jumped onto the kitchen island, trotting confidently across towards the cake. The cat had crouched down, back quarters wiggling in anticipation of a lengthy leap to his witch's shoulder, when a dull thunk sounded from somewhere behind him. All the cat could see was a glint of golden-orange scales before an eel-like animal clamped its sharp little jaws onto his tail; the yowl was enough to echo throughout the house, and it took both Lark and Holly to set the kitten to rights. Lark had pried the viciously carnivorous fish back into it's little two-gallon tank and leaned over the tank cover, trying to keep it from escaping its watery prison yet again; meanwhile, Holly was busy soothing her familiar's abused tail.

"Jumped right out and grabbed me... I could have died..."

"Calm down, Kyuro; you're being a cry baby..." The witch winced as Kyuro yowled again, and she nearly dropped the ice pack Lyra had fetched for her from the freezer. The cat looked at her balefully, and she stubbornly applied the ice again, ignoring the hissed curses.

Lark took the time to latch the cover down, then thought better of it and fetched a roll of tape from the counter drawer. After taping it down considerably, the younger girl managed to keep the smile on her face.

"Don't mind that; viciously fanged goldfish and all that." The fish bared its sharp fangs at her, and she blatantly ignored it, instead offering a plate of cake to her sister and the fox.

"So... want some cake?"

Next chapter will be longer, I promise. sighs and flips through calendar I'm soooo behind... x.x

Preview-thingy!

Finally, classes begin! Let's relish the return of Suzuki and Shikyo!

You can run from Aki, but you can never hide. o o;;

And who's this strange new kid?

Now, review, and you shall receive cake!


	5. The new guy

Quote of the week: "It's like the twilight zone... only on your desk. It's the twilight-desk!" -Kia

Honestly, I doubted I could finish this by the weekend... Halloween and all that...

Oh, yes, and I've noticed that through the last few chapters I've had a brain-lapse and accidentally typed Lyonell as Lionel... oops. ;;

Lyonell: - - I hate you...

Replies to reviewers (those with nicknames, you know who you are):

Shikyo-buddy: So you only care about the cake, ne? ::sniff:: I feel so... so used! ::coughs:: anywho, nice to see you around again.

Pegacorn: Yes, that was a goldfish. If you read back to Yukimi's latest house problem (last chappie of Cumulus Academy, minus the bloopers) she had an infestation of viciously fanged goldfish. Lark decided to take one home as a souvenir, and, well, it went off from there... ;; Also, if you have three months with just you and this ridiculously large bus, why not have some fun with it.

Azuredragoness: ::hands cake:: j0. OCs from the last fic will be included; I need an assistant teacher or two around, and the academy always has college-level classes. Also, I'll try to step up on updates. Ph34r th3 ph0x.

Embyrflame: Sure, I don't mind tossing in an OC or two. Just e-mail or IM me later on and we can work out how she fits into the story.

Ebbster: Thank you muchly. You deserve a w00t! ::punches fist in air::

"Mooooooove your-"

Crunch.

Fwoooosh!

And so, another lovely day began.

To tell the truth, Hiei had no idea where Kuwabara had dug that damn clock out from. Surely, the idiot must have hidden it just to bother him incessantly with its little annoying, false-Chinese-accented voice come the day of their return. After all, if Hiei had had the entire summer to beat on it, the cow-shaped clock would most likely be obliterated at from the face of the planet by now.

But, like always, the topic had to tire itself out for favor of more enterprising activities - namely, getting to one's classes on time. Even with the hassle of Mara to deal with, the fire demon managed to bide a little time to watch everyone else scurry to and fro.

"Oi, sparrow, find another perch!"

"Alright, now who can explain why my combination lock is 'unexplainably' forced open?"

"The dust spiders did it."

"Miss Lyra, can't I even have a goodbye kiss?"

"Stupid rat; get outta the damn house!"

"Yusuke, if you even try to use my violin as a weapon, you are SO dead."

"Really, everyone, try to calm down. We're going to be late as it is."

"Hey, where's midget?"

"Ahh! Runaway broom! Runaway broom!"

(Good luck guessing who says what, folks)

If just the dorm had been in such chaos, no one was surprised in the least by the total lack of order in the Academy halls; even though most classes were reached by means of outdoor pathways, one could hardly walk through without being shoved off to the side or compacted in a throng of otherworldly students. Most of the trouble wasn't just from a new headmistress, through; there were always new students: the human high school's equivalent of a freshman.

Although the much younger, kindergarten-aged newbies were cooed and fawned over, and grade-school kids were pitied, any new student over the age of twelve had a tough time of it.

This was a well known fact to Hanabi; for years he had always been the "new kid", shoved from school to school, shoved into lockers, shoved to the back of the line...

Well, just plain shoved, really.

At each new school he had been given a clean slate, a fresh start, a chance to make something of himself. And then, things always went bad...

He supposed it had started with the blackouts; when it had first happened, at the tender age of six, he was being shoved around (yet again) by his jeering classmates during recess.

When he woke up, they weren't there anymore. At first he thought it was a prank - they had beat his lights out and were probably sitting in the classroom laughing about it all - but when the bell rang and he went inside, no one besides the teacher was there. It had taken a week, but the rest of the class was eventually found in the woods just out of town. Unharmed, yes, but scared out of their young minds.

That was the first time, and since nothing could be explained, he had been let off. Then, when word got around he had done it, the older kids had started spreading rumors, hiding from him, and taking special care to not look at his eyes. In time, by the end of the year, some kid had decided that Hanabi was a trouble to the school, and decided to settle it with fists.

Another blackout, and, although the troublemaker was still there when Hanabi woke up, he was even more scared than the others. He had to be sent to the hospital... and he was still there, even today.

He was kicked out of school, and sent to another. More blackouts, and he was shipped out yet again. By now, his parents were royally peeved at him; they decided to have a sit-down, and he passed out. When he woke up, they were unconscious. And they never woke up.

The cycle repeated for years, and he never had a clue about what happened. Then he met her, the one person who dared even walk near him, and this time it was if he were watching a movie, stuck trapped in his own mind, while she... she...

Hanabi shook his head, trying to disentangle himself from the painful memories, his white hair flying into his eyes. This wasn't the time to think about it; he had class to get to, and this school had promised to fix everything. The voices would be gone, and he could start again.

That's right... everything about this place was new; he had no idea such a place existed, really, and the less human-like students had frightened him at first. But he would break out of his shell, maybe make some buddies, and live anew. No one would ever shove him around again-

PHWAM!

The teenage boy made a quiet mental comment about how pretty the clouds looked (that one even looked like a bunny... with a cotton tail and big long ears...) and something hovered over his head, blocking out the morning sun. Hanabi lifted a hand to his head, fingering the growing bump, and squinted his eyes at the painful throbbing.

Through his pale lashes, he made out a face framed by wavy brown-red hair and bright hazel eyes, full of distress. The girl's face showed nothing but guilt as she floated above him, hands clasped onto a polished broomstick.

"My God, are you okay? No, wait, don't move. I'll go get someone! Oh God, oh God... I'm going to be so late!" The girl looked around, panicking and almost causing her broom to capsize. Hanabi groaned and slowly sat up, loosening his scarf so the thing didn't choke him to death.

"I'm okay, really." He finally managed to say, and the girl almost didn't even hear him, he was so soft spoken.

"Er, uh... Someone? Can someone get a teacher, please?" She darted higher, her book bag dangling from the tail end of her broom, and Hanabi blushed bright red. "Hey, there's no reason to get so worked up, really. I'm fine." The boy struggled to his feet, dusted off his jeans, and swung his backpack back over his shoulder. The girl gave him a doubtful look, but jumped down from her broom and balanced it on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry I ran you over. I was just in such a rush to get to class, that-" the bell rang, and the girl nearly jumped back onto her broom, but thought better of it and grimaced. "I am so dead..."

"It was my fault, really; I wasn't paying attention, and I'm kind of new here..." He almost expected the girl to stiffen and lose her worried tone at those words, like so many others had at his old schools, but this one stayed. "Oh, a new student... Here, I can make it up to you by showing you to your classes, okay?" She swung the broom down and Hanabi watched in awe as it levitated on its own above the ground. The girl straddled the broom, then held out a hand to Hanabi, obviously intending for him to get on behind her. With a little bit of hesitation, the white-haired boy did so, and looped an arm around the girl's waist to keep his balance.

"Just tell me the class and the teacher, and I'll fly you over, okay?"

"R-right..." He nervously looked down at the ground, which was quickly falling away from them. Deciding it would be better for his nerves to just avoid looking, he squeezed his eyes shut and clung tighter. "Well, your class?"

"English; Taught by Shikyo-sensei." He sputtered, and felt gravity pull him back as the broom shot over the school buildings and increased speed. Wind rushed by, making his hair whip his face, and filling his ears with the sound. He almost didn't hear the girl shout over the noise, and strained his hearing to make it out.

"So, kid, what's your name?"

"H-Hanabi Niwamori!"

There was a sudden lurch, and he felt the entire world stand still, tempting him to peer out at the world. When he did, his eyes widened fully, and he nearly gasped at the view; the entire campus lay spread out before him, the various students and buildings mere miniatures of their real selves; a flock of pigeons flew under them in a tight formation, and the sunlight reflected off of the ocean and the girl's coppery hair. It was gorgeous...

The girl seemed to spot their destination and pointed the handle downwards. With the sickening sensation that his stomach had been left in the air above him, Hanabi screwed his eyes shut as the broom made its descent. They gained speed, faster and faster, until, with a sharp jerk that nearly sent him flying over the girl's head, the broom docilely floated three feet off the ground.

Hanabi's legs weren't much more than wet noodles when he reached solid ground, and he took a second to gain his wits before turning to the girl, who was nervously checking her watch. "Thank you very much," he said, bowing his head, and the girl nodded in return. "I'll stop by later, when class is over. If you need me in the future, though, my name's Holly Landon. At least one or two of the girls in there are buddies of mine, so they'll know."

"Uh-huh..." So, Holly was her name...

"See ya!" Holly waved, and was up in the air before he could blink. A second later, and she had disappeared over the roof of another building.

"Well, doesn't this year prove to be promising..." Suzuki strolled down the aisles, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed his class. He hadn't really made this job out to be a permanent one, but since it provided boarding and many of the rarer ingredients he needed for most of his potions for free, well, who was one to turn it down. Even watching over these curmudgeons wasn't as bad as he had first thought.

With a slight smirk, the inventor peered at some of the more familiar faces in his class. Yusuke had already propped his feet up on his desk and was leaning his chair back haphazardly; Lyonell was doodling in his notebook, tail held an inch above the floor and twitching; Rogerik was busy toying with a small combination lock, making it lock and unlock on its own while dangling from his fingers; Justin was hidden in the corner behind his three friends, and was glowering dangerously.

Yes, another amusing year...

"I'm sure most of you already know the rules I have set." There was a mumbled chorus of "Yes Sir" s and the inventor smiled warmly. "Well, that makes my job that much easier. Now, if you don't mind, we can start the class and-"

There was a furious knocking from the door, and Suzuki's left eyebrow twitched. There was no reason he should be interrupted this early in the morning...

Another knock, and the door visibly shook from the force. Suzuki strode over, and turned the knob, but was barreled over as the knocker flew into the room. Yes, flew.

Aki peered at the class, clasped her hands together and gave the brightest smile ever seen. Her ruby-red wings were blurs as she floated a full two feet off the ground, and the Celtic knot tattoo on her shoulder contrasted with her skin. "Suzuki-sensei, I was sent here to be an assistant teacher for your class!" She babbled on a bit more, but no one was really listening; the students were too busy watching their teacher pry himself off the floor.

Once he was sure his face was composed, the inventor turned back to the fairy and his class. "Well... what a nice surprise, Aki. I don't suppose you have a letter of certification, do you-" A folded piece of paper was thrust under his nose, and Suzuki calmly unfolded and read it, still sitting more or less on the floor.

"Damn..." The swear was whispered, but imminent, and Aki buzzed farther away from Suzuki, landing on the windowsill on the opposite side of the room. Once sure she was out of the path of the blond youkai, she cocked her head quizzically, her red hair framing her face and bright eyes. "What's wrong, Suzuki-sensei?"

Suzuki's face seemed to be forced into a smile, but it was barely more than a grimace when he asked, "Did Ryo assign you here?"

"Oh, yes sir!" Aki nodded enthusiastically, and watched as the inventor began to laugh quietly to himself. Suzuki took a cell phone out from his pants pocket and, still sitting cross-legged on the floor, pressed a few buttons, then waited silently until whoever was on the other line picked up.

"Ah, Ryo, so you are awake this early in the morning; lovely. Care to tell me about the assistant teacher you sent over here? ... Oh, trust me, this is no mistake - she clearly told me you partook in this. No, I'm not particularly amused."

There were a few minutes of complete silence except for the garbling from the phone, and then Suzuki, apparently fed up with the conversation, flipped the phone shut and stuffed in his pocket, then got to his feet. He dusted his hands off and looked at his class, trying to calm down enough to be civil.

Damn Ryo... just because the elf was too lazy to take on an assistant teacher didn't mean he had to dump the girl on someone else. As if having to put up with Aki outside of classes was bad enough... well, might as well make the best of it.

Lark slid her folder into her backpack and snapped it shut, chatting with Chrysanthemum as she did so. The cat had had a spectacular summer, as she had heard; leave it to Shikyo to turn their first day back into a conversation about vacation. For once, the neko was oddly unfocused, and had wandered off topic quite admirably in the middle of introducing the newer student, Hanabi.

The boy wasn't really much to look at, considering; even with his stark-white hair and good-looking face, his personality was so Blah (and that was as good a work as Lark could come up with so early in the morning) that he didn't stand out. But his eyes... a bright honey-gold, an unusual color to begin with; mix that with the blotch of orangey-red in the iris of his right eye, and you had a gaze that was downright hypnotizing. Now if only he would bother to look people in the eye, the kid might have something going for him.

"...You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get that idiot twin of mine to pass Finals last year... it took months of tutoring, and he's probably going to be so lazy he'll do the same thing this year, too." The tawny-haired girl continued, swinging her bag on her shoulder and giving the black cat an enthusiastic wave goodbye, with a slight sigh.

Shikyo watched the students file out, and looked through his schedule book with a few lazy flips of the pages. When most everyone was gone, the cat caught sight of a snow-white head and called over to the newcomer.

"Hanabi, can I have a word with you?"

Hanabi felt his insides twist, but he dutifully hung back, dutifully putting his bag on a vacant desk. Shikyo-sensei was a demon... and he was still getting used to the fact that the young man had black cat ears and a tail, never mind the fact that he heard demons were particularly blood-thirsty. (But we all know Shik wouldn't do that, do we? Yes indeed.)

"Yes sir." When the teacher stood up, Hanabi tensed, golden eyes directed at the cat's sharp nails. Seeing this, Shikyo sighed and sat back down at his desk.

"I've heard you've had some problems at your other schools." The teacher began, and knew that he had hit a nerve. Hanabi's gold eyes looked down at the floor for a moment, but soon he was back to nervously eyeing the English teacher. "Yeah, but it's no big deal, to tell the truth."

"Yes, well, I know I've talked to you about this before, but be careful not to get into any trouble until the school figures out a way to help your... condition."

He knew that there was no real way to banish the voices completely -- they had been around too long, had taken root in him. But, maybe with this academy, he could control them...

The bell rang, a piercing sound, and the cat waved him out, his dark gray eyes already re-focused on his schedule book. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Hanabi."

"Yes sir."

The teen swung his bag onto his shoulder and quickly made his way out of the room, although he wondered why, since the rest of the school day seemed to promise nothing but criticism and general gloom. He had thought it was a lovely day? How long ago was that..?

"Hey, you look more than a little gloomy." The voice was light and airy, and Hanabi looked up, shielding his gold and orange eyes from the sun with a hand, to see an already-familiar silhouette up in the sky. The silhouette floated downwards, and Holly grinned as the light caught the reddish highlights in her hair. "Care for a ride, stranger?"

For a moment, he seriously considered just passing the offer by, but a slight shred of the hope that he would make a real friend made him take his seat on the broomstick behind Holly. Again, the wind ushered the broom up, and he held on as the girl cleverly maneuvered past the more fortunate students who were gifted with the ability of flight. It had been a trying first few periods, and the boy tried to remember his schedule. Lunch... right - a little early, maybe, but classes had started fairly late, sometime around nine-ish.

The wind died down, and the two of them coasted gently over towards the picnic area outside the cafeteria. Holly brought the broom down closer to earth, and Hanabi clumsily dismounted from the broom, swinging the bag back over his shoulder. Another lunch period eating by himself, great...

"Hey, you want to sit with me and my friends?" Holly nodded over to an empty picnic table, and Hanabi seemed to think about it before slowly nodding. He had nowhere else to sit, come to think of it.

"Hey! Cheater!" A black-haired girl, one whom Hanabi faintly recalled as being named Lark, ran over and gave Holly a good-natured thump on the back. The redhead coughed, but managed to smile. "You never said I couldn't fly on my broom."

"And I never said you could leave me behind!" The familiar yowl sounded off from somewhere in the bushes, and Hanabi stared as a small black cat jumped out and onto Holly's shoulders. "Kyuro," Holly grimaced and plucked the cat from her shoulders, unhooking the small claws as she did so. "I thought you wanted to stay home."

"Just because I slept late didn't mean I wanted to stay in the house all day."

Okay, so he hadn't been hearing things - the cat was talking.

By now, he must've seen everything, right?

As many of you well know, a talking cat and girls on brooms are nothing. The poor boy was in for quite of a shock.

Finished... sheeee... don't just look the other way, now; Hanabi plays an important role in this story - be sure to keep an eye on him. In fact, I'm actually cutting down on plot holes (yaaaay!) so even the most miniscule factor can be important later on (::hinthint::Rogerik'ssummerescapades::hinthint::)

Er... yeah...

By the by, readers, I know you are all familiar with my ongoing Wheel of Torture series (I was actually thinking of turning WoT into an actual fic, but, alas, has sabotaged that plan, so I need to do it in end of chapter minisodes), and it's getting about that time again. Anybody with a suggestion of torture for an YYH character (or one of my OCs in Cumulus Academy) that I haven't used yet is welcome to give one in a review.

Oh, and Kuwabara, Suzuki, Chuu, Hiei, and Shishiwakamaru have been used already. Sorreee...


	6. Autumn Wave

Quote of the Week: "The first human being who hurled an insult instead of a stone was the founder of civilization." -Sigmund Freud

::hands over piece of figurative cake to Shikyo-buddy:: just wanna have your cake, and eat it too, doncha? ::grumbles:: Oh, yeah, bad things do happen when Hanabi blacks out; an interesting plot twist for later.

Oh, Embyrflame, Ebbster, thanks. Can't wait to read your stuff when you guys post it. And thanks to Yusukefan07. I'll try.

Yes, I am well aware of strange hair coloring in anime; at least I'm not to the point whee green is considered normal. O o Also, there isn't a plot hole just yet. Patience, my friend, patience.

Azuredragoness, I can just think what's going through your head. I'll save that idea for next WoT.

::stares at Pegacorn's WoT suggestion, and an evil grin slowly spreads over face:: Oh, Yusuke!

Yusuke: o o;; ::hides under figurative table:: The things you writers come up with these days...

Grimoire: Be brave, Yusuke. How bad could it be?

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He looked up, at the three demons blocking the doorway, and his spirits sank. One of them, with wildly wind-blown hair and red-brown eyes, sauntered up the row between the books and casually leaned against the bookshelf. Rogerik pretended not to notice, and busied himself with a rather large tome about kekkai barriers, but even the merest pulse from the demon that was sneering over his shoulder was enough to frazzle his nerves -- it was surely enough tension to make the thief jump when the demon calmly asked, "So, how long has it been since our last little run-in?"

Not long enough...

But he couldn't say that, not with Suichirio and Satoshi watching from just a few meters away. Better play like he always did; back down and show the white flag, then hope Gomo was feeling merciful. "Not since last December, I think."

He could have added more, much more; about how Yusuke and Kurama had sent Gomo and his two buddies flying, the fact that the trio had never popped up again ever since Hiei had taken them on... actually, last he heard, weren't the three of them missing from school? They might've not have been the worst bunch at the academy, but the three demons definitely weren't on the honors list.

"Uh-huh... well, isn't this a surprise then?" Gomo's face took on the semblance of a smirk, and Rogerik could sense the magnification of auras - the demon was checking the library for any allies that Rogerik might have hidden away - and then the smirk became nearly gleeful. "Tell me, ol' buddy," Rogerik felt the rough hands grab the back of his collar, drag him to his feet, and the claws barely pressing down against the back of his neck. Any more pressure, and there would be blood.

"How is it in the freak house? They treating you well there? I would hate for anything horrible to happen." Sarcasm, no doubt. When he didn't answer, he felt his neck twisting - but surely Gomo wouldn't be stupid enough to attempt to attack in the middle of a student-filled library, would he? Better not put anything past him.

No, the demon was just making sure that Rogerik could see every last shred of hate and wickedness in those brown-red eyes. Clearing his throat, the thief looked back with his own, irises the same color and feeling of cool moss, and managed to smile a little. "Just a little jealous, Gomo-chan?"

The demon's eyes narrowed, a confused and angry scowl appeared on his face, and Rogerik felt something heavy connect with his head as the world spun around in a blur.

Hm... hardcover wasn't so much of an exaggeration when it came to the older novels...

"Still have that mouth, eh?" The throbbing in his head increased as he was roughly seized by the collar again and lifted up; he tasted something bitter and metallic in his mouth. Great, he had probably gotten his lip split...

It was funny how others thought he had helped chase away that menace from last summer, how some thought he was some sort of hero who fought away monsters. Not in the least, he wasn't. Where had he been when Cecilia had appeared? In a cozy little office looking at a painting like he was in some stupid art gallery. Mind you, that was before the butler-from-hell and Givanni's ingenious unveiling, but he hadn't done anything...

From over Gomo's shoulder, he saw Suichiro gain the sudden expression that death was coming his way and nothing could be done to stop it, then a fist connected with the demon's face and he went sprawling on the floor. Another punch, and Satoshi met the same fate, and standing in the aisle, behind Gomo, was a very angry Yusuke.

Well, angry was a gentle way to put it -- in truth, the spirit detective looked pretty pissed.

"Well, if things just don't get better and better. First Ryo piles me with ten pages of Latin verbs, then I get stuck with Chrysanthemum for a study partner, and now I have to beat your demonic little rears again."

Gomo didn't even have the chance to unlatch his grip on Rogerik's collar before the demon was grabbed roughly by the neck and collarbone, and then thrown over Yusuke's shoulder and into another bookshelf. Gomo seemed a bit bruised and stunned, but otherwise unhurt, until the shelf groaned and the books that were precariously balanced upon it avalanched onto the demon.

Rogerik stood up from where he had slipped on the library's tile floor, and stared at the collar of his button-down shirt in mild disgust. The demon's claws had left a few tiny tears in the fabric, and the collar button had been torn off. Lovely.

With one look at the simmering Yusuke, however, the thief forgot about the shirt entirely and his green eyes took on a meek look. "Uh..."

"Look, how many times are you going to let that goon walk all over you?"

"Well, I-" Rogerik ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep the bangs out of his eyes, but Yusuke whapped him upside the head. It didn't quite hurt, persay, but it did catch him off guard. "Hey!"

"Look, you're going to learn how to kick that guy's ass-" Yusuke pointed over at the pile of books ten feet behind him. "-Even if it kills me. You got that?"

"Y-yes, Yusuke."

"Excuse me?" The brown eyes glinted, and Rogerik hastily (and jokingly) corrected himself.

"Yes sir, oh great Yusuke-sensei?" The spirit detective lazily gave Rogerik a one-eyed glare, but let it slide and gave him a punch on the arm. Turning and bending down to get his bag from the tile floor, he waved his hand at the thief. "C'mon you."

Rogerik hurried after Yusuke, the book he had been reading before forgotten, and matched step with his roommate.

The pawn was in play, and only a few weeks left to get everything set. Guilt had its place, but he supposed apologies could wait until later. Most importantly, was the fact that he learned how to fight so that his self-proclaimed teacher didn't get in his way later.

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"Well, I'll admit she's fairly healthy, Hiei." Yukimi patted Mara on her head, ruffling the dragonling's feathery mane in the process. The researcher flipped through a small notebook, the one she had kept track in since Mara had hatched, and pursed her lips, chewing thoughtfully on the end of her pen. "There is one thing that bothers me, though; she hasn't grown much - if at all - from when you left for the human world in June."

"So you're thinking the human world halted her growth rate?" The fire demon stood in the living room doorway. An understandable position, really, considering the thickness of the dust clouds that were beginning to filter into the room; Yukimi sighed, and closed the living room door. The working group she had assembled had specifically told her that re-shingling the roof would be a strictly dust-free project. Unless maybe one of the worn-out chimneys had collapsed again -- if so, she hoped that the destruction hadn't been too bad.

"No, that's not quite it." She came back to the couch and sat down, feeling the smooth skin of the young dragon as Mara perched on her bare arm and wrapped her tail around Yukimi's wrist and fingers. "I think it's more like an adaptation, really. She knows you can't be seen in the human world, so she tries to stay as inconspicuous as possible. You should thank her."

"Maaa!" Mara nodded her head at her 'mother' and searched in the bag by Yukimi's side for any possible treats. Hiei sullenly looked on from his spot on the opposite side of the room and shrugged. "Well, if that's all..."

"Uh-huh... but I think her growth will spike up again soon, just start growing that flower garden of yours for the winter." The dragon researcher managed a grin; despite the dark scowl Hiei gave her. Yukimi coughed, and quickly tried to change the subject. "In any case, tell me if she's starting to look sickly or malnourished. And I want to keep on with her weekly appointments." She gave Mara a small kiss on the nose, hugging the slender neck quickly, then tossed the white dragonling into the air, where Mara took wing and made her way to Hiei's shock of black hair.

The youkai looked thoroughly disgusted at the display of affection for his charge, and glared, then disappeared into the shadows. No doubt he was outside the house by now, and Yukimi hurried to the window to yell out at him.

"Stop doing that Star Trek phase-thingy! You'll probably damage her brain with all that jerking around- ack!" Another cloud of reddish-dust floated down, and the researcher ducked back inside to try and rid her mouth of the stone and soot flavor.

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Embyr timidly stepped out of her charms and enchantments class, trying her best to shrink away so her older classmates wouldn't notice her. To tell the truth, most of the older students didn't mind so much; some thought it cute she was so smart, others just blandly accepted the fact that she was good at what she did. But there was one girl... she had been plain nasty to Embyr, not that the young kitsune knew why.

There she was now, lounging against the wall, idly chatting with some other girls, demon and human alike -- and she was in the direct path to Embyr's next class. Embyr didn't really want to be late, but she had heard some pretty nasty things about this girl, and didn't want to be on the receiving end of her malice. With a sigh, the white-haired fox looked out the glass doors, and trudged outside; she could always go around, she supposed. Luckily, her next class was her last for the day, and then she could go back to her dorm; she had an interesting book she had hidden underneath her pillow, loath to bring it to class because she knew it would distract her enough for her to pull it out and read it in the middle of class.

She had just about gotten halfway to the tower for her beginner's Latin class with Ryo-sensei when she heard a twig crack behind her. Just a second later, a slender hand was clutched onto her shoulder, the manicured nails digging into her collarbone most unpleasantly. "Well, it isn't the little rat?"

Embyr was about to correct the much older girl, but decided it would be in the better interest of her own health to stay as meek as possible. It wouldn't be hard to slap a paralyzation spell on the girl, since her guard was down, but it would take a few seconds to build up power in the blank slip of paper, and her best bet to buy time was to play the victim.

"Helen, what do you think you're doing?"

"Ah-uh..." Helen spun around, and faked a smile. "Just making sure little Embyr-chan knew how to get to her next class, Kurama-kun."

Embyr-chan... Sickening how the wench called her that...

Embyr looked up at her savior, a noticeably handsome boy with crimson-colored hair and soft green eyes. Right now, though, those eyes were expressing something between pity and annoyance. "I'm sure I can take it from here. You should get to class, Helen."

"Of course, Kurama! See you later!" Helen flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and ran off, Embyr watching her retreat balefully. When she looked back, Kurama was kneeling down next to her. "Are you okay? Helen can be quite vicious if given the chance."

"I'm fine." Embyr held onto her bag a little more tightly, eyes narrowed slightly. There was a strange aura around this boy; not necessarily bad, but... different.

"Kurama, was that Helen just now?" Kurama looked over to the speaker, and Embyr followed his gaze. Another girl, shorter than Kurama by about four or five inches, and her long black hair tied back in a braid, looked back questioningly at the running blonde, and Kurama shrugged. "She was just being herself, I suppose."

Embyr took a good look at the new girl, who was fairly okay looking. Besides the black hair, she had dark blue eyes and was wearing a long-sleeved blouse and a long gray skirt made out of some material that looked like flowing water. The new girl kneeled down, the skirt rippling around her legs and ankles, and smiled serenely at the kitsune.

"Hi, I'm Lyra."

"I'm, uh, Embyr." Embyr nervously waved, and Kurama gave the two an approving smile. "I'm Kurama, as I'm sure you've heard. Now that introductions are out of the way, which class are you going to?"

"Latin, taught by Ryo-sensei. I already know where the class is, though." She looked down at her feet while under Lyra's calm expression, and scuffed the dirt. "Well, I hope you don't mind if we tag along, Embyr." The white-haired kitsune shook her head no, and walked between Lyra and Kurama down the brick pathway. Ancient trees, still clothes in their emerald-green leaves, lined and shaded the pathway. From up ahead, Embyr could see a flash of red above the treetops, and then the far away sounds of an argument and someone laughing in return. The red blur halted enough for Embyr to make out the shape of a young woman with auburn hair and ruby-colored wings, and she heard Kurama sigh next to her.

"Aki... just lovely." The fox seemed to brace himself for impact, eyes on the fairy hovering nearly forty feet above the ground, and Lyra sweatdropped. "With luck, she might not notice you..."

Embyr listened in silence, and instead looked up towards the trees. The fairy did a complex loop-de-loop and made some sort of hand gesture to a group of boys on the ground below her, then buzzed over the trees. Kurama's terse stature quickly went slack, and all three stared up at the scene before them.

As the fairy, Aki, Embyr presumed, flew over the trees, the green leaves slowly lost color and turned to gold, then orange and those nearest her wings a fiery red. The color rolled in like a wave, and they craned their heads upwards as the foliage fairy flew down the row, then hooked a right at the end of the pathway, her wings still as vibrant a red as the leaves of the outermost branches.

A golden orange leaf softly floated down, bonked into Embyr's nose, and the young fox caught it by its stem. Just seconds before, the leaf had been as green as Kurama's eyes, but now...

Perhaps this school wasn't as bad as she had at first thought.

Ah, yes, I kept on picturing that last scene in my head repeatedly. Tot ell the truth, I'm a sucker for pretty things such as that. ::points up:: And it only made sense to have Aki bring the autumn colors; something Stephanie and I had talked about.

If I ever get a website up and my scanner running, you can be sure to find a picture of Aki and the leaf-change scene on there. However, that's a big if. ;;

Now, onto WoT!

Fangirlitis & Pegacorn: ::come back inside, minus two containers of sidewalk chalk::

Pegacorn: When I gave you suggestion, I didn't think I would be doing the actual work.

KKC: Hey, I was typing. Besides, Grim needed help rounding up Yusuke.

Yusuke: ::bound and gagged to a chair:: Mrmf! Mmphmn!

Fangirlitis: ::pokes Yusuke with stick:: I can't hear youuuu! What was that, boy? Keiko fell down a mineshaft? You want pizza? You want to play hopscotch?

Yusuke: O O;; MMmrrrrph! ::struggles even more, and nearly tips over chair::

Pegacorn: - .- How'd you catch him?

KKC: ::holds up lasso:: They taught us well at school.

Pegacorn: ...

Fangirlitis: ::drags Yusuke and chair outside, where a hopscotch board is drawn on the street in chalk.:: Well, here you go, Yusuke!

Yusuke: ::looks down street, and notices hopscotch board continues to go down street for well over a mile:: ;.; Mmod...mnyelp mne...

Pegacorn: ::unties Yusuke:: Erm, when I gave you the idea, I don't think I included a busy highway... ::looks down street as cars drive past::

KKC: It adds excitement. And so does the black ice.

Yusuke. x.x

Fangirlitis: ::throws Frisbee down street, and it lands on square 28,463:: ooh... that's a good one. Have fun, Yusuke.

Yusuke: ::gives baleful look at street, then at girls. KKC pulls out small tazer and lets the electricity play along the tazer's prongs.:: o o;;

KKC: Well, what's keeping you? Git going!

Yusuke: ::gives girls dirty glare, but tromps on hopscotch board, his hands still tied behind his back, but his legs, thankfully, free:: Mmupidph phwomen... ::begins hopping down board, cursing all the way::

Car: ::roars down street::

Yusuke: O O;;! ::tries to hop out of way::

Pegacorn, KKC, & Fangirlitis: ::cringe as Yusuke is hit by car and sent flying back to square one::

Fangirlitis: Tough luck, dude! Start over!

Yusuke: X X ::dies::

KKC: That did NOT happen... you saw nothing.

Pegacorn: O O I killed him! Gah, Yusuke, I'm sorry!

Fangirlitis: ::pokes Yusuke with stick:: Uh, he's still breathing. ...Kinda.

KKC: ::calms down:: Oh, okay. I promised Keiko we wouldn't let him die again.

Pegacorn: ::stares at KKC and Fangirlitis:: ...You guys are sick...

Fangirlitis: Oh, that. Yeah, we know. ::pokes Yusuke again:: Hey, dude, ready for another round?

Yusuke: ::dies again::

KKC: ...Now we may have a problem.

Grimoire: Yes, well, while my incompetent authoress tries to sort out this mess, any donations to the "Save Yusuke (again!) Fund" can be sent to . That is all, and thank you. Stay tuned for next chapter. ::looks at Yusuke-corpse:: Ooh... that IS nasty, isn't it?


	7. Sickeningly Familiar

Quote of the Week: "If I want to hear the pitter-patter of little feet, I'll get a midget butler." -me ( )

Replies to reviewer-like-peoples!

Azuredragoness: Oh, yes, Helen has much to learn... I think I know what you're talking about for WoT, too. Keyword, I think. ;; And I'm writing – err... typing – as much as I can. ::looks at collection can, and in voice reminiscent of Tiny Tim (from a Christmas Carol)...:: Bless you, ma'am.

Pegacorn: As much as I twist your ideas, Pegacorn-chan, they are still amusing and deserve to be said.

Ciardra: ::takes ten dollars:: whoo! Yusuke won't die – again! Yes, like I mentioned, there will be a cut in plot holes, but unfortnately not in taxes. O o Anywho, Aki glomps everyone... . ::is Aki-glomp victim::

Ryuu no Furui Yami: Nice to see ya! Hm... it would be unusual to post the sequel in the older fic, wouldn't it? Anywho, the house is recovering, slowly but surely. At least the goldfish of DOOM problem is solved. And those three? Heh-heh... I was hoping you'd never ask.

...really, I was.

Embyrflame: Er, yeah, no prob. ;; she looks to be a fairly useful character, and I don't mind taking on another. I would like to see her story – I'd like to see samples of your writing. If Kurama/ fangirl torture is your thing, check chapter twent-something of the first CA until I can get a WoT segment for your request; I try to do a new segment every five or so chapters.

Ebbster: ::stares at youngster:: So young... so deluded... you have done well in using her, Ebbster. ::bows:: And so, the chapter shall begin.

"Now, Hanabi, I know you've met quite a few of my friends..." Holly turned to the boy, her house key still in the door's lock, and tried to smile. "There's some you haven't met yet, so, please, try not to freak out."

"I don't think they could possibly get any stranger than that girl Azure you introduced me to." Hanabi remembered the strange-looking girl from nearly a week ago, and still wondered how such a being could have been born; normal people just didn't have fuzzy wings, donkey-like ears, and tails. He had even noticed that very few of the students had been as peculiar as Azure had been to him, but he'd heard of worse from Yusuke. Apparently, the school nurse was a sight to see as well, although he'd never had the "pleasure".

"You'd be surprised kid." Kyuro poked his head out from Holly's bag, and jerked his head at the house. "You'd think even I'd be bomb-proof when it comes to who looks like what, but there's always something new out there. Koryu is a good example..."

"Who?" Holly sighed at the innocent look in the teen's yellow-orange eyes, and turned the doorknob. "You're sure to meet him later..."

"Oh, Holly! Have you seen Miss Lyra anywhere?"

"Speak of the devil," Kyuro muttered, and Holly tried to block the monster from Hanabi's view as much as possible, or at least until the boy got inside the house. "Don't mind him, Hanabi." The witch called back over her shoulder, "Lyra should be over Suzuki's, Koryu. Don't scare anyone this time."

Hanabi went to move the witch's arm out of his view, trying to look into the kitchen. Whoever this Koryu was, he at least sounded human enough. "I doubt he could scare any- ack!"

Four red eyes gazed into his own, a rainbow-colored fin gleamed down its spine, and a rat-like muzzle of sharp teeth glinted dangerously in the kitchen light. A pair of whiskers moved freely about, each nearly falling to the floor before traveling out the kitchen window with the monster's neck. Hanabi had a feeling that Koryu was easily over ten feet long, if the creature's sinewy neck gave any indication.

And he had thought the monsters in his nightmares were frightening...

"Oh, Holly, is this a new friend of yours?" The monster, Koryu, cocked his head at Hanabi, his smaller pair of eyes squinting, and he waved a whisker over across the kitchen, where it gently brushed against Hanabi's cheek.

It... it was touching him... Hanabi shook his head, and tried to step backwards, but something in his head kept buzzing. This Koryu was a threat... a danger to his health. How hard would it be for the creature to use those teeth to crush his spine and ribs? Not long, surely.

So get rid of it before it kills you...

It felt like he was about to pass out, faint, and the buzzing of voices only stopped when Holly put a hand on his arm and shooed away Koryu's whiskers.

"Back, boy. You need to find Lyra, remember?"

Koryu backed away from the window, one pair of eyes trained wholly on Hanabi, and growled softly. But, despite the obvious bristling of his jet-black fur, the creature's voice was oddly restrained. "Yes, thank you, Holly. Oh, and Lark was wondering if you had a book for her."

"Oh?"

"Yes - Jekyll and Hyde." With that, Koryu's head disappeared from the window completely, and the barest edge of his fins shimmered as he moved away from the house. Kyuro tilted his head a little to the side, and jumped out of Holly's messenger bag; the kitten trotted towards the kitchen window a few steps, and then turned his vibrant green-eyed gaze on the two students, sizing the white-haired Hanabi up and down. With a sigh, Kyuro trotted past and made himself comfortable on the cushion of Kurama's armchair.

"You two had better get to your homework. I have a nap in mind, so don't bother me, will ya?"

"Oh, that's just fine. Brat." Holly flicked her familiar's ear as she walked by, and trudged up the staircase. Normally, Koryu's judgment was eerily correct, but... as she looked back at Hanabi, who still appeared rather shaken by the experience in the kitchen, a slight chill settled in her chest. He wasn't some monster or anything, based on what she'd gathered from the week or so since she'd met him, so why was she suddenly so uneasy?

The sun was warm, inviting, and he gladly gave in to the lethargic mood of the day. Today had been slow-paced, and classes had let out early; not only that, but he had been given the task of watching over a group of seven-year-olds in the mid-morning, and, although he was fond of children (having numerous younger siblings of his own), this group had been nothing but brats.

Yes... he deserved a rest. And he would be damned if anyone tried to ruin it.

"Lyonell, you lazy bum!"

Lyonell groaned, and turned over onto his side, he tail curling up around him and his ears flattened. He moved his floppy hat over his eyes, and pretended that he simply hadn't heard his name being called. Perhaps if he played dead, she would just go away...

"Lyonell! Hey!" There was a sharp tweak on one of his ears, and he nearly hissed at the pain. "G'way..."

Chrysanthemum tried a softer tone of voice. "Brother-dearest, why, may I ask, are you sleeping when you were _supposed_ to work in the greenhouse with Kurama and me?"

Oh, yeah... he had forgotten, hadn't he?

"We had to replant all those seedlings on our own!"

"Sorry," he mumbled from underneath his hat. Somewhere in his head, he made a note about saving up for a digital organizer - it would make things a lot easier for him. Or maybe a few clones of himself.

The pain from his ear intensified, and he had to sit up to prevent his twin sister from literally ripping his ear off. "Hey! Ow! That huuurts!"

"And you deserve it. To make up for earlier, you can do the dishes tonight."

Erck... water... the thought made him shiver. Hastily, he stood up so his twin wouldn't drag him completely as she stalked towards the Victorian house that served as their dorm. "Couldn't I do something else? I wouldn't mind dusting. Please?"

"We'll see." At the twisted grin Chrysanthemum gave him, Lyonell suddenly wished he had stuck with the dishes.

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Silence...try to empty out your thoughts, get your bearings...

There! A flash of blue to the right!

Rogerik jumped over to his left, turning so that the blast of spirit energy only grazed his side instead of pummeling him straight in the gut. It stung, but he would live, considering.

"Crap! Yusuke, are you trying to kill me?"

Of course, that didn't mean he couldn't gripe about it.

Yusuke stepped out from behind a thick growth of underbrush, shaking his head as he did so. "Look, you're fast, but you have no idea how to even block attacks right. You can't keep running out of the way - it'll wear you down before you get so much of a scratch on your opponent."

"Thanks for your care and concern." Rogerik unbuttoned his shirt, looking at the damage done by the weak Spirit gun attack. The skin was slightly reddened, and was already beginning to take on the purple-blue of a bruise. To tell the truth, he had seen the Spirit detective do worse - much worse. Yusuke had always been more powerful than almost everyone at the academy, even when the teen had just conquered the Dark Tournament (Rogerik had seen the tapes, and he had been plenty wary of any of the Tantei ever since), and now there was no doubt that he had gotten stronger since then.

On the bright side, though, at least the thief hadn't broken any bones this time. None of Erika's physick for tonight, and no Green Death-flavored herbal teas from Kurama or Rachel. By now, he was about to drop dead from sheer exhaustion - Yusuke hadn't been lying about the whole run and scurry approach Rogerik had been taking - but the adrenaline that came from having a ball of raw energy hurled at you prevented any type of sleep.

A week straight of this, and he still hadn't been able to land a hit on Yusuke. If he didn't know better, he would say this was a session for Yusuke to work out his frustration by beating the crap out of the thief.

"You want to quit for tonight and work on you blocking early tomorrow morning?" Yusuke cracked his neck, and Rogerik had to wonder for a moment what day of the week it was; right, Friday. Tomorrow was Saturday, and...

"Yeah, sure." The blond checked his watch, the digital readout a neon-teal nine-thirty, and his eyes widened. "Crap! I was, uh, supposed to talk with a bud of mine in a chat room. Homework and all that."

"Uh-huh... well, it is too dark out to keep going, anyways."

Yeah, he hadn't been paying attention before, either. Just a half-hour ago he had wondered why it was suddenly so much harder to see - and which way for him to dodge. Rogerik nodded, then looked over towards the dorm. The windows of the purple house were a bright gold, and illuminated the front yard softly. Gulls wheeled overhead, and the far-off waves of the beach downhill crashed against the cliff steps; somehow, a soft tune played on a violin (most likely Lark practicing) floated above it all.

The house was quiet, considering nearly eleven people, not to mention numerous pets, lived under its roof. From the floor in front of the fireplace, two firefly-eyes lit up as the upper skull of Bones looked up from the skeleton's disassembled spot on the floor. The whip-like tail wagged several times, but the canine eventually drooped back to sleep as Yusuke went upstairs and Rogerik retreated to his basement bedroom.

Jin wasn't downstairs, like the thief had guessed, and the room seemed oddly empty without the cheerful windmaster. Rogerik knelt down, pulling out his bag from under his bed, and started tearing through. Out came a slim case, not much more than six inches long by a half-inch thick, and he flipped the top cover over to reveal the flat touch-screen and monitor. He took a small glass tube with a spiraled wire inside, and popped it into an equally small indentation below the monitor, then pressed the power button, watching as the tiny machine hummed to life and the spiral wire glowed a soft amber.

A black bit of fuzz drifted onto the monitor, and Rogerik was about to brush it away when the fuzz grew four spindly legs and opened it's beady little eyes. A positively cute squeak came from the little soot spider, and soon the thief found himself the perch of at least thirty of the little creatures.

The monitor at last flickered to life, and remained a light ivory until the dark blue letters filled the screen.

Too many people were awake, Yusuke was already suspicious from the summer, and the cops were still looking for the scroll from his last job for his employer. He couldn't afford to make it for the appointment, but he knew someone who could...

His employer would have to understand.

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If anything, Jin wished that today wouldn't be so bright. Only quarter past six in the morning, and already he was close to being blinded by the sunlight. Perhaps he should stop blocking the small window in his cellar-turned-bedroom so that his eyes could adjust; besides, the sunlight in his room fell right on Rogerik's bed, not his own.

Then again, it was a Saturday... why had he even bothered to trudge upstairs this early? Even Kurama was still sleeping, and Lyra was absent from the kitchen. The water manipulator usually spent her Saturday mornings cooking breakfast for the entire household. Rachel wasn't around, either, and the demon found a small note pasted to the TV remote that stated there was a teacher's meeting being held sometime around eight.

That was right... Rachel was headmistress now... ugh.

Peeling off the post-it note, Jin plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. Flipping through the channels, he found a news station and turned the volume on low. Nothing much had happened, according to the reporter's chipper attitude. There was a scandal where some woman had been robbed of a few pieces of jewelry, and the items had been hidden in the dough of a nearby bakery; how dull it all seemed, when one compared it to the paper articles of last school year.

There was a clack and clatter as Jin felt a smooth surface bump into his clawed hand. Looking down, he met the firefly-eyes of Bones, and gave the animated skeleton a pat on the head. "At least someone's awake, here."

"Yes, it does seem strange with no one downstairs this early." Kyuro hopped up onto the couch's headrest behind Jin, his little black paws kneading at the fabric almost mechanically.

"And suddenly, a perfectly good morning is spoiled..." Sarcasm wasn't really the wind master's thing, but after spending a summer with Holly's somewhat "unusual" family, the familiar was beginning to rub off on him. Kyuro gave a small smile, his sharp little fangs gleaming in the bright sunlight, and stated, "Well, I guess you haven't met Holly's new acquaintance if I'm the most of you troubles."

"Uh-huh..." Jin focused his blue eyes on the TV, Kyuro's voice distant and hollow to his ears.

"He's become quite attached to her, this Hanabi."

His couldn't affect him in the least, per say. Not only was he hesitant to change the relationship between himself and the witch, but Holly's older brother Victoria had staunchly supported the idea that if anyone touched his "darling sister", one would suffer the wrath of God – and excruciating pain wouldn't be far along behind.

And for a cross dresser, Victoria could be scarier than anything even King Enma could come up with. Let this new "Hanabi" take the blame, and things would work out from there.

But he knew he had heard the name before, fairly recent, too. Perhaps if that damned cat would stop talking he could concentrate better.

_A bright day, where the earthbound were packed into the academy parking lot by the sheer number of bodies. His own roommates were below him, trying to find a calmer way out of the throng, and Holly floated just over to his right, skillfully balancing her bag and familiar on her broomstick. Happy exclamations and salutations were exchanged, and most of the voices were fairly young – many he had never had the pleasure of attaching to a face. However, one quiet sort of argument was picked up by his long ears, and he recognized one of the speakers instantly._

_Low-keyed and smooth, yet the cat's usual flattering way of speech was strained and snappish. In curiosity, he had flown closer, peeking from among the treetops as Shikyo stood in a tense conversation with another young man not much younger than the cat himself. This newcomer had brilliant white hair, and Jin felt the orange eyes lock onto his hiding place – sending a chill down his spine. Whoever this person was, there was something seriously wrong with them..._

_"Hanabi, I know you have been informed of this, but try to keep yourself contained. The last thing this school needs is more trouble, and I'm sure you'll run into quite a bit if things turn out to be like last time."_

_The orange spitfire eyes left his, and Jin felt a knot in betwixt his shoulders relax and loosen. The white-haired boy's voice, though, wasn't any less unnerving._

_"Yeah, I know. Keep myself out of stressful situations – which you aren't helping, "sensei"."_

_Shikyo's tail twitched, the nails on his hands almost sharpening themselves into the claws the cat teacher was so adept with. Still, he kept his composure, and his voice remained level. "If that's all you have to say for now, then leave for the headmistress' office." The neko stepped back, one hand towards the door, as if he wanted to distance himself from the unnerving glare and twisted smirk that Hanabi naturally wore, yet not willing to leave himself the least bit unguarded._

_Hanabi looked up towards the sky, shielding his eyes from the sunlight, and muttered very plainly, "Perhaps this facility should do something about eavesdroppers. Something might happen to them, if the problem is not taken care of." Again, the sudden, unsettling chill, and the white-haired boy gave a flashing smile towards Shikyo – one that was the equivalent of the charming look Shikyo used on appealing young females._

_"I'll see you later, Sensei."_

The thought of those same cold, yet burning eyes almost made the windmaster shudder.

There was no way Holly would even dare come close to such a disquieting young man... or would she? Even her own familiar, as loyal as he had proved to be in the past, seemed to harbor some ill – and not because of the black cat superstition. What was it he had heard about Kyuro? That the cat had once been tricked into servitude?

Either way, it all led to one hell of a headache this early in the morning, and Jin groaned as the twangs of pain wormed its way into his skull. Letting his head hit the couch cushions with a soft thud, he didn't even acknowledge the worried pacing of Bones. Kyuro, who was still upon his headrest seat, merely smiled and nodded.

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Review and make me happy!

And if anyone wants to chat 'fics or anything, feel free to IM or email me.


	8. Tis But a Dream

Quote of the Week: "Remember that a kick in the ass is a step forwards" – unknown

Okay, sorry for the slowness in the update-ness... Christmas has got me a tad busy, so next chapter may be a tad slow as well. But I'll try.

Reviewer Replies!

Ryuu no Furui Yami: Actually, no, those three are fine. I just forgot about them for a while. ;; Chuu and Touya are sill working on the house, and Rinku lives in the dorm Suzuki is supervisor at. They will show up soon, unharmed and unscathed.

Pegacorn: Aren't we all? Insane, that is.

Embyrflame: No, I was talking about it was okay to take in Embyr. I do want to read her story, though.

Ciardra: ::huggles Lyonell:: Fuzzy, he is. But Victoria is scary when he's (She? Shim?) angry.

Ebbster: Well, as long as she's not misused. 

AzureDragoness: : Ass-kicking will come, and much of it. Your own ass will be sore from all the kicking going on. O o;; ::coughs:: Ho-kay, that sounded a tad awkward... Oh, you were asking when I'd update, and here it is.

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_It's funny, almost... I know it's only a dream, but... but it's so **real**..._

His hands closed around the pale, unmarked throat, claws digging into skin. A slight pulse beat from below the smooth skin of his victim.

Yes, his victim... always there, egging him on. Even though the rest of this dream-fantasy was a blue, the slim neck, and his hands around it, was always sharp and clear.

_Kill me... kill me... kill me..._

So why didn't he? One twist, or just two minutes of applied pressure from his hands and the voice would stop, he would stop.

The world would stop.

_Please, kill me..._

A change... this was the first time in the near-three weeks of this recurring nightmare that the victim's voice had given any clue to just who they were. Feminine, and choked from the slowly tightening grip he had on her throat; he could feel her breath force itself against the walls of her windpipe.

But why? Why was he strangling the life out of someone? This wasn't something he'd ever do...

And then, the most chilling of all.

_Brother..? Why won't you kill me?_

Only a dream... right?

If so, why could he never escape? Why did it never change?

Why was the green of his twin's eyes staring up at him?

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"Maaaa..." Mara buried her little white muzzle deep in Hiei's hair, her blue eyes half closed. It was late for the dragonling, almost ten at night, but Hiei doubted he could sleep even though Mara drifted off into dreamland. For starters, there was a rather large book in front of him.

Red eyes holding nothing short of sheer malice, he looked from the textbook to the note and it's neat cursive handwriting beside it.

_Hiei, read chapters one through three. It might keep you from getting stuck after classes again._

_Don't make me use force just so you can get this assignment done._

The stupid fox hadn't even left a signature. Not that the fire demon had needed one to see who the note was from. Right about now, looking at the glossy cover of the history textbook, he would have rather have taken chances with Kuwabara's retarded alarm clock.

He still had a score to settle with the porcelain bovine.

With a disheartening "Hn" he picked up the book and flipped it open while holding it in one hand. Struggling with Kurama wasn't exactly on the top of his 'To-Do' list, and what was a bit of reading, anyways? Surely just a few...minutes...

He blinked once, then flipped back through the glossed pages. Quite certain his eyesight wasn't failing him, he checked again and felt his eyebrow twitch in agitation. Chapters one through three totaled a grand number of ninety-two pages – in insanely small print. Small wonder the fox had tagged a threat to the end of the note.

Honestly, if anyone thought he would waste his time with this drabble, they ought to have their head checked.

But Kurama was rather fond of stowing away the seeds of carnivorous and poisonous plants...

Tired eyes from reading or infected bite wounds. A lovely pair of choices. The plants didn't have any means of feeling pain, so where was the fun in fighting them off? Unless he, in a burst of common sense, managed to steal the fox's footnotes on the chapters; if he believed correctly, Kurama had read the same insanely large book just two weeks ago.

Yeah... footnotes. Those would work.

Mara shifted a little in her sleep, her tail going lax and nearly uncurling from Hiei's left shoulder, and a clawed wing drooped in his line of vision. The dragonling was getting bigger, and had nearly grown half a foot in length. Although she appeared to be young, all traces of baby fat had left her, and she was slender and serpent-like. Nearly all of her meter-long length was tail and neck, with a small body and delicate head. When her wings were folded, however, she much resembled a winged snake.

Her mother, Cecilia, although lean, had been built more along the lines of Western-style dragons. Perhaps her unusual body shape was from her crossed bloodlines? He would never know, the fire demon supposed.

Now, back to those godforsaken notes...

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He knew that this couldn't possibly be the same Hanabi he had seen weeks ago. Although the hair color and face was the same, Jin couldn't find the slightest trace of the cold young man he had overheard talking to Shikyo. It was as if they were two different people entirely. A split personality? No, it couldn't be... there would at least be some semblance between the two sides, something that tied them together.

The windmaster had puzzled over this for quite some time, now. From that day of his conversation with Kyuro, there was barely a place that Holly and Hanabi went that Jin didn't tag along to, or send one of the roosting sparrows to follow them. And every time, he had gotten the same impression: a bit shy, but gentle and a fairly nice guy. There was no chill to his voice, his eyes, although a strange golden and orange color, were warm (if timid), and he didn't carry himself with such airs as the other "Hanabi" he had first seen.

So why was it that Kyuro and Koryu were so on-edge around him?

Holly stretched her arms behind her head, and uncrossed her legs. Stumbling up from the floor, she cautiously tiptoed around the numerous books and such strewn about the area, and picked up her water glass on her way out of the room the witch shared with Lark. Poking her head back in the doorway, she said, "I'm gonna go refill my water glass. I'll be back in a minute." And the sound of her footsteps were heard going down the stairs.

Jin leaned back, propping his head against the side of Lark's bed, and watched as Hanabi looked back down from the doorway. Funny... the windmaster had never been stuck in the same room as the white-haired boy before, at least not alone. It would be interesting to see what would happen...

No, wait, what was that he had seen? It had been nothing more than a mere glimpse, but in those eyes, a brilliant orange at the exact moment they had met Jin's, there had been a feeling of utter loathing. The same winter-chill that had crept into his bones on the very first day of the second year plagued him yet again, and now his interest was peaked.

So Hanabi was living a double life, eh? A charmer when he was around Holly, but a loose cannon whenever the witch was out of earshot or sight. But the change was so total, so complete, that the youkai wondered how anyone could pull it off. Usually there was something that gave them away, some little wrench in their plans.

When he looked over at Hanabi again, the orange had given way to the soft gold. The youth turned to Jin, blinking in surprise.

"Uh, what's wrong?"

"Nah, nothing." Hanabi shrugged, and went back to copying the Latin verbs from his textbook, but Jin knew he had seen that scathing look. And the tie... that one little orange stripe in the boy's left eye. The rest of his gaze was soft, but that sliver of spitfire orange seemed like it was a piece of shrapnel. It wasn't natural, and Jin was sure that Hanabi hadn't been born with it.

Jin turned back to his book, one elven ear partially swiveled at the boy, and focused his sky-blue eyes on the print on the page. A sea of black and white, his eyes were tired and strained already – he had been reading the pages for this particular assignment for nearly forty-five minutes. Not only that, but it was eerily quiet in the house. Lark was over at a drama club practice, Kurama and Lyra were acting as tutors somewhere out on campus, and even Yusuke, Kuwabara, Bones, and Kyuro were vacant from the house.

Peace and quiet... shattered by a sudden involuntary shiver. Something was staring at him, as if trying to bore holes through the demon. The hair on the back of his neck bristled, but Jin tried his best to look unaffected.

Hanabi. Again.

He was sure that if he turned around now, Hanabi's eyes would be fiery coals, determined to tear Jin apart with a sheer glare of hatred. What had he done to deserve this?

"Hey, you guys want something to eat?" The voice floated up the stairs, and Jin felt the glare fade away, replaced by innocent gold. And it clicked, and even though he answered that yes, he was indeed hungry, much like a robot would, the demon recognized the source of such malice.

Jealousy... over Holly. Had Hanabi targeted Jin as a possible rival, now that the windmaster started hanging around more often? Well, there was no doubt.

When Holly brought the bowls of vegetable soup up, he took it silently, and downed only a few spoonfuls before packing his book up and going downstairs. As much as he hated to think it, as long as he was around, that other side of Hanabi was teeming just below the surface, able to burst free at any moment. Perhaps he would take a short flight tonight, maybe find someone to mull things over with. Touya... yeah, his old buddy. Surely the ice master would have some idea or means by which to handle things until a firmer grip was gotten on Hanabi.

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"Justin? Ah, Justin, are you okay?" Clarice sighed at the sight of the sleeping boy, and gently prodded him in the side with her finger. Unlike last year, the human boy had been applying himself quite diligently to his schoolwork. She secretly suspected that the imminent pain of Chrysanthemum's claws had been the reason – that and the fact Justin seemed to work doubly hard in order to impress the neko demon. Even Suzuki hadn't been able to set him off on one of his gloomy moods, yet, so there might be hope yet for him...

Ever so lightly, the fairy grabbed a good chunk of Justin's short brown hair, and lifted his head off the table; the spiral binding of his notebook was imprinted down the left side of his face, and Clarice suppressed a giggle. When she heard him mumble a rather colorful expletive under his breath, though, she let his head fall with a not-so-tender thunk onto the table, and backed up a bit. She would leave the awakening of Justin to another; someone else could invoke his anger.

Deciding it would be better to let sleeping dogs lie, Clarice went downstairs to set the table for dinner.

It was dark, and the entire world seemed to be empty. No one. Nobody. And not even so much as a tiny glimmer of light in the black. He felt something claw at the hem of his shirt and whipped around, feeling the talons dislodge, one by one. Another swipe in the dark and his feet were kicked out from under him.

With the feeling that it would be better to keep moving than wait around for, well, whatever it was, to come back, Justin got to his feet. It was slightly cold, but the overall temperature seemed to be fairly random in what it was. Stand in one spot, you were shivering; move a meter to the left, and it seemed your skin was roasting. The sensation of pins and needles in his left leg as he was walking, though, was constant, and it seemed to throb at his knee with every step.

Nearly twenty minutes of non-stop walking, now, he guessed. The pins and needles in his leg hadn't ceased; but then again, it hadn't gotten any worse, either, so he couldn't complain. At points, he had seemed to fade in and out of this inky black reality, and time was warped for him, yet he knew he hadn't stopped and rested since he began. Because he knew that whatever had nearly attack him before wasn't a figment of his imagination and was slinking along behind him. It never made a noise, whatever it was, but its presence made him think twice about every step he took. There was no light, so what if he tripped? Well, it would be on him in a second, tearing him to pieces. Or perhaps his death would be more painful and slow, with the crunching and grinding of bones while he was still alive to feel it.

Well, now was the landmark upon which he promised himself to never watch anymore slasher movies...

But in all seriousness, Justin knew that he had to keep going. No time for rest, no time for directions, no time to even figure out how to get some light in this godforsaken place.

And then, in the middle of the air, right in front of him, was a pinpoint of white. The only star in a sea of universe. It drew him like a moth to flame, and as soon as he was in front of it, it seemed to give no real light. Only a speck of bleach white...

No, wait. It wasn't a light source; it was a hole in the sky. But, as he went to touch it, it dropped into his palm, like a small white marble. What in the world was going on?

But the white orb seemed to answer that itself, and Justin found himself shielding his eyes from the scorching light that seemed to burn the very insides of his eyelids. The orb was dropped, forgotten, as he tried to save his eyes by blocking with both hands. But someone else, a set of hands and fumbling fingers, pulled them away from his face, and he felt the smooth toughness of nylon. A sudden dab of cold on his wrist, and a slim need was plunged in, painless but giving him a crawling sensation to feel the metal sticking into his bloodstream.

The white fuzzed, blurred, became a cyclone of white and ivory and different colored blobs of skin tone. He could feel more needles, sticking out from his other wrist and the crook of his elbow. There was bustle... more people seemed to fade in and out of the picture like some sick dream.

Wait, this was a dream, right? He was sure he had seen this before, though...

And then the wail of a woman, crying and trying to explain something all at the same time came from the corner out of his line of sight. The edges of his vision cleared, and he could hear plastic curtains rustling as people with teal masks and wearing white smocks rushed in and out, always a changing vortex of nurses and doctors...

Oh, God, not again... going through this once was enough. Especially when he had been so small then. There was a painted Cat in the Hat on the opposite wall, and he recognized the room as the children's ward. But he was nearly sixteen or so now... he shouldn't be in this section, and he should be able to move more than this. The machines shouldn't seem so big, and the uncomfortable hospital bed not so expansive.

No... Not again. He wouldn't do this again. He would struggle all he needed to. Forget his crying aunt in the corner, forget the pain in his leg that was quickly numbing. Yes, painkillers. That was what was being pumped into him. Painkillers and plasma through the IV, and someone was yelling for a unit of AB positive blood...

As much as he fought against the nylon cords on his wrist and legs, he couldn't break free. And he knew he never would... they had, in a burst of inspiration, even belted one over his forehead so he couldn't move his head at all. The more he strained his neck, trying to get a better look, the deeper it pressed in, smothering his bangs in his eyes and leaving red marks across his skin.

"Nurse, give him a dose of anesthesia. His BPM is going through the roof; he needs to calm down."

A mask was placed over his mouth and nose, and the air coming from it smelled strange. It didn't take long for him to wear out. His head seemed so heavy, and his eyelids drooped involuntarily. He couldn't jerk himself awake like he usually did.

Yes... let the drugs do the work. Just sit back, ignore the needles, and drift off. It would be all right...

And his neck was so tired; he didn't even want to bother moving his head in the least. It seemed as if someone had rested a great weight on it. Almost like they had balanced a stack of textbooks on top...

"Hey! Hey, man, calm down!" Lyonell sidestepped out of range of the human's furious half-awake backhand, picking up his paws as the small pile of heavy books fell to the floor with a thud. The cat nervously stayed out of arms-length of Justin, and something that could easily be genuine concern was on his face. "Justin, dude, you alright? You never wake up swingin' like that..."

Right, a dream... no hospital, no restraints. Just an annoying human-sized kitty.

"I'm okay." His reply was a mumble, really. But at the moment, comprehendible speech seemed far beyond his limits. Lyonell cocked an ear, and moved a little closer. "Care to repeat that?"

"I'm okay. Don't hover like some mother hen!" Justin made a shooing motion with his hand, and stood up. Good... after that nightmare, he wasn't sure if he could walk; he was surprised already that the action of standing hadn't turned his legs into limp noodles. With bleary eyes, he stared at the leather-bound books scattered haphazardly on the floor.

"And what were you doing with those?" He asked, picking one up and dusting off the cover. A-BR of "The Encyclopedia Britannica", read the binding, and Justin could just sense the stupid answer he was about to get.

"Er..." Lyonell chose to stare at the ceiling rather than Justin's face, and quietly started shuffling out of view. "Nothing much, really. Just checking to see how you were doing." Just kept his glare on the cat demon twin, and Lyonell started to shuffle faster. "Nothing you should concern yourself with, actually! And, uh, gee, whaddaya know? Dinner!"

And with that, Lyonell had disappeared from the room, and was taking the stairs two at a time. Justin merely looked at the books on the floor, sighed, and started to pick them up. Staring at them, he would have liked to have just kicked them out of the middle of the floor and gone after Lyonell; but Chrysanthemum had turned his shared bedroom into a study room of sorts, and she would have killed him if it wasn't spotless.

"Why can't vacation just come already..?" he muttered, picking up his assignment book as if it would burst into flames at any moment. If he had a lighter, it would have.

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Blood pounding through his temples, rushing through his veins. The adrenaline rush that came from breaking into high-security locales always took forever to get out of his system.

As he pulled the tube-shaped carrying case off his back, he pressed a few buttons on the keyboard of his communicator, and the amber filament flashed brilliantly. The thief swore softly, checking to make sure Jin hadn't noticed – but the windmaster wasn't there. Rogerik raised an eyebrow at the absence of his roommate, but shrugged it off. Less trouble for him, and an easier transaction of the goods to his employer.

After all, anyone awake would surely notice the glowing two-foot-in-diameter portal floating in midair and never let him hear the end of it. An otherworldly wind of sorts kicked up and Rogerik gave up keeping his bangs out of his eyes – the wind wasn't a single breeze, but a number of crosswinds.

"Simply dramatic..." The thief grumbled, remembering that the last few times he had done this, the light from the portal hadn't been nearly so bright, and no wind whatsoever. But, then again, the man he worked for was a sucker for the dramatic, and the thief supposed he could deal with it for now.

If only the idiot would just grow out of it soon...

Tossing the case in midair and catching it in his hand, Rogerik stared at the portal. The first few times, he had been unnerved by just throwing valuable paintings into a void in the time/space continuum, but after proof that they had been received with no damage, the initial shock had worn off. Giving the case one last look, he hurled it into the portal and grabbed hold of his communicator, shutting down the portal. The glowing circle flickered, shrank in size, and the wind died down. Within a few seconds the room was entirely dark.

He was almost tempted to get a new job or find something else to study. But this was what he was best at, for better or worse. After all, if you could undo any lock, why not put it to good use and get money for your efforts?

Oh, yes, he had mentioned it had been a bugger to slip into Meucca's art museum, snatch the painting, place a fake, and make off with the undamaged original, hadn't he? And then, once his employer had apparently deemed it safe for the paintings to be free in the world again, he was supposed to break right back into the museum, take the fake, and return the original.

For all the trouble this job was worth, Rogerik hoped he would get paid double for this.

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Again, sorry about the lateness. But, uh, the plot should pick up a bit soon.

And next time!

-What is going on inside Hanabi's head? Well, for starters, there are many voices... o o

-Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Lark get suspicious! (And you know that when they team up, there's going to be trouble.)

-Pictures of Justin start getting on the Internet, thanks to a certain cat. But will Justin laugh with everyone else, or strangle poor Lyonell-kun?


	9. Me, Myself, and I

Quote of the Week: "You are the _bitchiest_ Santa Claus I have ever seen." – Mother-dearest, to Kevin.

Whooo… late again. Well, I hope you all had a good Christmas/Hannukkah/whatever. And a Happy New Year's to ya all.

Reviewer Replies!:

Embyrflame: No, the story was okay. Although, yeah, the ending was a tad rushed. But she was such a cute little fox, then! In any case, nice to know you like the fic. And Hanabi isn't nearly as scary as other characters I have coming out.

Pegacorn: o.o;; What, was your comp hitting on another comp or something? Er, sorry, just what I think when I hear gay. > >;; Good luck with the college-ness, and your fic is coolio. W00t! I feel loved!

AzureDragoness: Hey, I update as soon as I can. Really...> >;; Fine, sympathy aching shall work as well.

Ciardra: Well, they were encyclopedias (you know how big those are) and they kinda went everywhere. Let's just say there were many. Actually, if you read sometime before April vacation, Justin's accident wasn't much of a trauma. He just tried to skateboard in the house and fell down two flights of stairs while doing so. O o He just hates needles. In any case, twin-ness comes into play later. My lips are sealed about Hanabi.

Shikyo-buddy: w00t! I have come far, master. ::bows::

Ebbster: ::glares at kidlet:: He is so lucky I don't bite small children. Make him try to bite me again, and updates shall slow to a crawl.

* * *

"Hey, just because I said you could take a break didn't mean to break out the beer! Chuu! Put that back!" Yukimi lunged at the drunkard, but the youkai just put out one hand on her forehead and laughed as she struggled to get within striking distance. "Eh, what's the problem, shiela? It's not like you're a regular drinker. This stuff was just sitting in the closet, wasting away." Chuu took a long gulp from one bottle, and passed it to an oni-like student, who fumbled the bottle before staring wide-eyed up at the giant man and taking a small sip.

"And now you're giving it to under-age students! Chuu, you're horrible!"

"Naw, he's not under-age. Good ol' Mack here is in his early twenties!"

"No, he is twenty. Not twenty-one -- the legal drinking age." Yukimi plucked the half-empty bottle from the oni, and re-corked it. Chuu sighed and sat down on the front steps, running a hand through his blue mohawk. "You need to get out more, Yukimi."

"I will on Halloween. It's about a week away." Yukimi replied, and stared out over her front yard. The roof had been finished for a few days now, and even now, in her mind, the dragon researcher could see the hordes of little brats lining up at her (slightly less dangerous) front porch, asking for candy...

She was glad she had decided to stay home until later in the night, then go out partying. Yes, going to a full-out party wasn't how she usually spent her time, but with Touya there... well, someone had to have a good time.

Speaking of Touya, where was the ice master, anyways? She hadn't seen the shinobi for nearly two days now - and he lived with her.

* * *

He watched as his companion paced before him, red hair flying in all directions, blue eyes troubled. The elf-like demon had been doing this for how long? Ten, fifteen minutes? Already the ground below Jin's feet had worn down, and the ice master only sighed and waited for the wind master to speak.

"I just don' get it, though. One minute, the guy is perfectly normal. Then, as soon as you turn your back, he's gone into "**doom**" mode."

"He's probably bi-polar, Jin. Nothing special among humans." Touya stated, turning his gaze from his longtime friend to the skies above them.

"…Or possessed." Jin muttered, and Touya raised an eyebrow at the youkai. "What? You haven't seen this kid! He's pissed as all hell, and at me, too!"

Touya shrugged and looked back towards the deep blue of the sky. "Well, possession is a new one, coming from you."

"I'm not trying to joke around, Touya."

"For once..." One pupiless blue eye focused on Jin, who was actually looking pretty upset, and the ice master felt his cold exterior crack. He was never good at giving advice on personal problems; in fact, there were few people, if any, that could even get him to laugh.

Jin was one of those lucky few.

"I'll see if I can find out anything around town. This Hanabi's main files are kept under lock and key by the faculty, as is everyone else's information. Tough luck trying to get your hands on those."

"That's all?"

"Just because I'm a higher-ranking shinobi than you doesn't mean that I can move mountains so you don't have to look over your shoulder constantly. You know that."

Jin snorted, but kicked off from the ground and floated cross-legged in the air. "Anyways, I'll see you later." Touya waved in reply, back to his cloudgazing. The weather was perfect for some meditation... when was the last time he had relaxed, anyways? Although there was no actual danger at Yukimi's house, there was also no peace and quiet.

"Oh, and how's that porch?"

With deep breaths, Touya counted to ten. Enough time for his slight irritation to subside and for Jin to get out of range of his Shards of Winter.

* * *

**So, how's life, boy?**

Hanabi squeezed his eyes shut even more, burying his face in the pillow. Every flipping night, He had to chime in. Bad enough to live out each day of his life, but He always re-played every waking moment to him in his dreams. Often with snarky commentary.

**Hm... You're rather fond of this Holly, aren't you? I've seen her with my own eyes, you know... Cute, but there are much better out there.**

Snarky, annoying commentary... and although it was rather nice to have the vision of the wind witch floating about in his head, it would have been better if the thought hadn't been pried from his memory by someone else.

Another vision, this time of a young man with wild red hair and vivid eyes.

**And behold! Hanabi's downfall! You know, I could help you rid yourself of this "Jin".**

_You twit! Let Hanabi-kun sleep for _once!

Voice number two... tonight was just turning into a full-on party, wasn't it? Although good ol' two was a bit moody today.

**Ah, a party. Nice thought, boy-o. Speaking of which, All Hallow's eve is coming up...**

_Trying to turn him down the path of evil again? I swear, if I had my physical body back I would kill you!_

It's not evil. It's life. We aren't all holding up the glowing crown of absolute good and justice such as yourself.

If He had shoulders, He would have shrugged. But Holly's picture dominated in Hanabi's head, while Jin's shrunk. Picture-in-a-picture... either he himself was getting more creative, or He was just showing off. Rarely did He pull off the picture-in-a-picture train of thought.

All I'm saying is that boy wonder here never wins when you take over. Passive resistance... bah.

_You brute._

**The one and only.**

Well, for starters, He was right; when was the last time he had ever gotten anywhere in life with the other one preaching to him along the way?

_Not you, too! Hanabi-kun!_

**"Hanabi-kun" nuthin'! Take the back seat for once, toots. I'm driving.**

_You... you're incorrigible! Horrible! Corrupting! _

**Yeah, okay, whatever...**

Why wouldn't they just stop talking? Hanabi's collective unconsciousness was starting to get quite a headache at the moment.

_And for the last time, don't call me "toots"!_

It were times like this that made him wish he had died that one time before...

* * *

"And more news on the latest spree of art theft later on at eleven. Back to you, Kujiro..."

Yusuke just stared at the screen. Déjà vu? Perhaps. But, although there was no security tapes to prove his hypothesis, the spirit detective suddenly turned his brown eyes to the basement door. As if getting the thief out of trouble once was too much to ask, now the little bastard was still out at night and hiding out in the dorm as well...

It was only the fact that it was nearly six fifteen am on a Saturday morning that Yusuke didn't charge over to said door, shoot it down, storm down the steps, and drag the sleeping Rogerik out for a morning beating. Jin could get testy if woken up early, and there was always that age-old question as to where to hide the body when he was through. Sure enough, though, there would be hell to pay later.

"Hey, can I ask why you're trying to use heat slash laser death beams on the door?"

"No." He didn't even look up as he replied. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lark sigh and slump over the stair banister, black hair falling in her face.

"Good morning to you, too, Yusuke."

Lark wandered down the staircase and across the living room floor, falling with an ungraceful thwumph on the couch. Eyeing the remote, she reached out her arm, found it too short to reach across to the coffee table, and let it fall limply. Too tired to do much else, she lanquidly watched the TV.

"You know, that's the fourth time I've seen a report on that art thief since we got back to school..."

Well, this was news to Yusuke. Even though he wasn't a total TV junkie, there should still have been some talk around campus, or at least mere mention on the radio.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me, then?!"

One burst of clear water, and Yusuke was sufficiently cooled down enough to ponder the idea of screaming at the younger girl. Although not exactly angry, he could see her aura faintly simmering around her – all kudos to the fact she would much rather be sleeping.

"Since when do you have any interest in art whatsoever? If I recall, you can't even draw a straight line."

"That's not the point. El Bandito over yonder has been suffering from a recent case of kleptomania."

Lark raised an eyebrow at the poor use of a Spanish nickname, but he could see the gears turning in her head. Although Rogerik took classes on breaking and entering, and all other sorts of delightfully deviant activities, that didn't mean he was excused whenever he swiped something. The fact that he did so meant that he was usually kept under constant surveillance whenever the thief went out of the house; if not by a teacher, than by a roommate or student.

Light shone upon her dazed musing, and the water manipulator was on her feet and storming across the room in a second.

"Oh, I am going to_ kill _him!"

"Hey, hey! Don't!" Yusuke grabbed her by her slender arms, and pinned her wrists behind her back, one hand firmly pressing on her collarbone. "If I can't kill him, neither can you."

"Watch me." Yusuke could only stare as she dropped to the floor, freeing her wrists and kicking upwards. In any normal circumstance, he wouldn't have let go of her, except the girl had aimed a bit too high. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, not really caring if this was a childish fight or not, but was suddenly lifted and separated from Lark, who was now staring up rather angrily at her "savior" as he firmly grasped her wrist.

"Kuwabara, get out of this."

"Hey, it's waaay too early to be arguing. And you two were acting like a pair of squabbling kids."

"Look, you'll get yours. Just let me kill Yusuke," Lark said, with something between utter sweetness and rage. Sweetly enraged... now that was an oxymoron if Yusuke had ever heard one.

The spirit detective let his body go limp, and Kuwabara, sensing that his friend wasn't going to blast a hole through the wall, let him drop on the floor gently.

"Now what are you two bickering about?"

Yusuke could see Lark's stormy eyes darken, and her mouth twisted in a wry grin. "Genius-boy here," she jerked her head at Yusuke when she spat it out. " He wanted to beat the snot out of Rogerik because our favorite little thief has been stealing some pretty expensive stuff lately. Then he went off on me, and now I want to kill them both."

Kuwabara blinked. "That's all?"

"What do you mean, 'that's all'?! You idiot!" Yusuke shot out at his friend, who ignored the comment. In fact, even Yusuke had lost interest in what he had said, because at that moment, the knob to the basement door was turning. As Kuwabara stepped out of the doorway and the door flung open, they were not met by either of the room's inhabitants but a rather strong gale.

Yusuke and Kuwabara both slammed their weight against the door, and it thankfully stayed shut as the wind died down.

"Maybe we should take this outside."

* * *

"Look, I say we just keep an eye on him. We don't have any proof." Kuwabara sat back, for once exceptionally proud of himself for his deductive reasoning skills. And Sis had always said he wasn't the brightest bulb...

"Stupid! Five reports in two months! Who's the only one who studies theft here? Rogerik. Who can open any lock? Again, Rogerik. And who dropped in at my house, sick as a dog and with a stolen -- mind you, -- stolen art-scroll-thingy? All signs point to... Rogerik!"

"Give the man a cookie." Lark muttered, staring at the October sky. "I'm just surprised he didn't tell anyone. Rogerik isn't the type to hide much."

Yusuke sighed, and uncrossed his legs, letting the blood flow to his ankles. "Except his problems at home."

"An over-protective sister isn't a problem, Urameshi. You make it sound like she shackles him to the wall like some pet and hand-feeds him." Kuwabara stated. Nodding in agreement to the redhead, Lark continued, "And those sort of issues aren't our problem. He has to deal with it himself. Like with the three stooges."

"Oh, Gomo and Co.? They're still around more often than I'd prefer. Like they're wolves and Rogerik's the horse with a broken leg. In either case, he's screwed. Get eaten, or get shot by the human."

"I take it you're the human? That's a new development," Lark said. She toyed with a few strands of black hair, and moved onto the collar of her pajama tanktop. Yusuke raised an eyebrow.

"So he hasn't told you about his fighting training?"

"Uh, no, he didn't. We, uh, don't talk much..." Lark looked over to the side, much to the confusion of the two boys, but recovered quickly (although her cheeks were slightly red, and Yusuke was guessing it wasn't from the non-existent chill in the air). "But I was wondering why he looked so beat up all the time... You did all that?"

"He needs to learn how to block." Was her only answer from the spirit detective.

Kuwabara, great negotiator he was trying to be, cut them off. "Give him a week. If he leaves the house, we follow. Deal?"

Both black-haired teens gave him identical looks (ones that spoke of annoyance at the whole idea and the fact they wished to just take care of it now), but nodded.

A week... surely Rogerik could prove them wrong by then.

* * *

When history had let out, Justin already felt as if he wanted to just curl up in a corner somewhere and die. Already he had been sentenced to the mysteriously-appearing-from-nowhere-pitfall/trapdoor that Suzuki had set up, and earlier a detention from Rachel.

"Come on, Justin... Cheer up! It's not that bad."

And, to make things worse, Aki had decided to be his "buddy-for-a-day" (in her own words, no less). To the human, this only proved the foliage fairy had more free time than was good for her.

"Hey, how 'bout I treat you to lunch, eh? Whaddaya say?"

"I say you should just find another "buddy"."

"But you're so unhappy!" She flitted over, a bit off his shoulder, and Justin's eye twitched in irritation. Clenching onto his bag's strap more tightly, the brunette sneered. "And I have _no_ idea why, seeing as I'm only halfway through this hellish day and now I have **_you_**."

"Justiiinn..." Aki whined, hugging his arm. "It couldn't possibly get any worse, right?"

"No, not really," He admitted, trying to pry the fairy off of him. For such a petite woman, though, Aki was unusually strong and he eventually gave up. "Will you just stop clinging?" With a small pout, the fairy did so, and took to the ground, her wings folding down against her back.

"In any case, at least you only have about two hours of class left, then you're free from me."

Justin gave her a look. "...But we live in the same dorm."

"Uh, we do, don't we?" Aki sweatdropped, and chuckled. Justin was about to come up with some scathingly witty remark, but was shoved to the side as a stray student rushed over to join her circle of friends. He watched as a mess of papers were taken out of the girl's bag, and the entire group clustered around them, then burst out in either giggles or blushed like crazy. Justin merely blinked at the behavior of the younger students, then met the eyes of one of them.

The young girl, whose fingers ended in sharp talons, did a double take from Justin to the papers, then whispered something to her friends. All six or so girls scrambled to hide the papers in their bags, and innocently faced the brown-haired human. Justin raised an eyebrow. Now this was an interesting development, and it couldn't hurt to check it out.

"So, what were you looking at?"

The girls blanched, and most of them averted direct eye contact. One or two tried to come up with some excuse, but faded off into mumbling. Okay, now his curiosity was piqued. He stepped a bit over to their right, then wavered to the left, aware of the girls' eyes following his every move. Standing perfectly still and staring at the younger students with an unblinking gaze, he could feel the tension building.

A sudden dash to the left turned into a fake, and he slipped between them from the right, snagging a few sheets as he exited the group. All energy seemed to drain from him, however, as he stared at what was in his hands.

"W-where did you get this?" Aki cocked her head, then turned to the girls, who were now looking a bit ashamed of themselves. One girl, the same talon-nailed girl who had first noticed Justin, was shoved up to the front of the group, and she nervously looked at the ground. "Well, there's a website, you see..."

Ridiculous... but plausible all at the same time. "A website? Who's the webmaster?"

"Well, um... it doesn't the exact name, but the webmaster goes by the alias GolLion..."

Oh, he knew that fake name, for sure. It was Lyonell's screenname, as well as the cat demon's character name on Dungeons & Dragons. "I am going to skin that cat alive," he hissed, and stormed away, one or two papers floating from his grasp. Aki, who had been silent until now, bent down and picked up the paper, then looked at the picture on it.

Even halfway across campus in his search from the cat demon twin, Justin could hear Aki's laughter follow him.

Welp, there ya go. I'll try to update sooner and all... ;; But in any case!

* * *

Next chapter:

-Justin takes his photo battle with Lyonell on personal ground! Ouch...

-Rogerik is caught in the act! Yusuke screws up (again)! And just who is his employer?

-And just how does this new girl know Hanabi?


	10. Til the Stroke of Midnight

Quote of the Week: "We've Focker-ized him!" – Meet the Fockers

Yes, that's right! KKC is on schedule because KKC was smart enough to work on this chapter while waiting for computer access to Internet and started right after she finished typing the last chapter. Isn't KKC smart?

...All witty answers to that rhetorical question will be sent back to those who said them. -.-

* * *

Wednesday morning... he had been online all night searching for the website Lyonell had set up, and it appeared the cat wasn't as lazy as he first came off to be. Oh, no... Justin had found many an embarrassing picture of every person who lived in his dorm, not to mention pictures of those from other dorms as well. How the cat had managed to do it, Justin didn't even want to know. After all, he thought that picture of him at the age of four playing piñata with a hornet's nest had been kept safe at home, in the album under his parent's bed.

Of course, there were some more recent pictures, but he had chosen to ignore those. Except for that one with Shishiwakamaru talking to himself in the mirror; that, he had to admit, was mildly amusing. As was the one of Chrysanthemum running from a supposed water spider in the lake when the family had gone camping during the summer. But, he could never admit to anyone else that it was because the female twin's clothes were a tad skimpy.

There was no doubt he could make this backfire on the tawny cat. Chrysanthemum had a fearsome hold over her parent's digital photo album, and there were more than enough victims to help. Even without the help of Lyonell's twin, he had found a rather hilarious picture of the cat "playing house" with his younger sisters... and the one with a five-year-old Lyonell decked out in full make-up and a pink dress at his elder brother's wedding.

Oh, the possibilities. Lyonell would get his... starting at six-thirty AM, when moments from the cat's horrifically hilarious past were e-mailed to everyone on campus. As he finished typing out the code that contacted all the internet connections on campus and clicked send, Justin sat back, enjoying his revenge in process.

And all the while, Lyonell peacefully slept, unawares, in the bed across the room.

* * *

Sunlight was evil... for all the talk Touya had given about "entering the light", Jin was ready to throw the metaphor out the window. He would rather get a few hours extra sleep right about now than frolic about in the sunshine.

Rapid-fire tapping came from the small window that was set near the ceiling of his basement room, and the red-haired youkai managed to wake himself up enough to look up. The digital face of his clock blared out at him from over his pillow, and he blinked in confusion.

Since when did Rachel forget to make a roll call to make sure everyone was gone? Especially at... He squinted his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them, and nearly choked. It was close to nine forty-five.

"For the love of all that's good an' holy!" The shinobi yelped, jumping out of his bed and pulling on a shirt, then ran up the stairs, pulling on a pair of sneakers as he did so. His bag lay, nearly forgotten, by the front door, and he managed to slip his hand back through the door and grab it before the door slammed shut behind him.

The sparrow family clustered about him as he left the ground, the eldest (and therefore flock leader) flying just above his head. Had Jin not been in such a rush, he would have shooed them away. But there was no time, and the wind master considered just skipping his first period classes then re-joining the class in time for second period. Perhaps have a nice relaxing morning for a change.

Jin halted in midair, the sparrows either flying around him in circles or perching upon him, and gazed down at the sprawling campus. His first class today was study hall, anyways, so he doubted anyone would really miss him. With a shrug and a glance towards the walkways below him, he shrugged and descended by the small pond that was located near the cafeteria. Comfortably settled in between the branches of an ancient willow tree, the demon closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep once again.

* * *

"Okay, good, good. So all of you are here, and..." The cat demon paused, gray eyes scanning the room until they spotted a single empty chair, and he sighed. "I could have sworn Hanabi came in. Do any of you know where he went?"

There was a hum of collective murmuring from the class, and Shikyo leaned against his desk while his honors class talked it out among themselves.

"... Yeah, he did come in, didn't he?"

"Dude, who knows? The guy is always so quiet you never notice him."

"Actually, he wasn't looking too good. I think he might have gone to the nurse's."

"That would explain why his stuff is gone."

"Hey, since when was this kid in our class?" The student, an oni with reddish-brown skin, black hair, and a trio of horns on his forehead, cringed at the look he got from his classmates. "What?"

"And this is an honors class..." Shikyo grinned at Chrysanthemum's exasperated sigh. Although the next comment, kudos to Lark, was more amusing.

"Hey, we're the special honors, remember?"

The cat demon cleared his throat, gaining his class' attention. "Well, do any of you "special honors" students know where he is exactly?"

Total silence and an audience of confused eyes rewarded him, and the cat sweatdropped. This was bordering on ridiculous.

* * *

"Well, hello." The voice, robust and energetic, penetrated his dreams like a guided missile. There was no trace of shyness; not in the person's speech, nor in the way they viciously poked him in his side. Jin grumbled, lazily swatting the offender's hand away, and was met with empty air.

"Ooh, aren't you a grumpy one?" Same voice, this time behind him. He was sure he had picked a high-up roost for himself, so how was this person able to move so quickly in the tree's branches? Another poke in his side, and the shinobi let one blue eye open slightly. Whoever this annoyance was, they didn't want to be seen.

He could change that.

Jin could feel the slight change in the breeze as the person went to poke him again, and guided the wind around him, catching whoever was bothering him up in the air and suspending them. By the loud shriek, he guessed that this person was much less fond of the air than he.

"Let me down, you jerk!" With all the yelling, he knew there was no chance of going back to sleep. Sighing, he got up, excellently balancing on the branch, and yawned, then turned his gaze to the one who had woken him up.

Halfway-through his yawn, he blinked, twitched his ears, and blinked again.

"What, have you never seen a female before in your life?" Said female was no longer amused by the shinobi, and now had focused her dark blue eyes on him with the precision of a high-powered laser. She fought to keep her shirt from rising too high on her midriff, and it looked as if her long hair was about to strangle her. "Now that you've taken a gander, care to let me go?"

Although she was undoubtedly a girl, she looked amazingly androgynous, and her brassy voice was the same.

"Hellooo! Chili-pepper, are you deaf and stupid?" Jin grimaced at the reference to his hair's color, but snapped his fingers and the girl was lowered to the ground. She then smiled, went to take a step, and fell flat on her face. "Wha?" Her eyes widened at the pressurized circle of air around her ankle, and she glowered at the tree-borne Jin. "You play dirty."

"So they say. But, I wanna know why you were pokin' around 'ere, eh?"

The girl sighed, then tucked her legs in as she made herself comfy on the ground. Already the once lush grass had dried and was now yellow-gold and scratchy to the feel. She tilted to one side, pulling a pinecone out from beneath her seat, and cleared her throat.

"Well, it began in a galaxy, far, far away..."

Jin narrowed his eyes, obviously not amused at the joke. "Stop kiddin' and get to the point," he snapped. The girl shrugged, and gave the demon a quizzical look. "From what I heard from Hanabi, you're supposed to be a pretty good guy. What happened?"

"Eh? Whoa, wait there, girl. You know Hanabi?"

"Pssh... of course I do. We're very close, in fact." She paused for a moment to uncross her legs and check her wind shackles. If she was annoyed by the fact they were still intact, she gave no sign. "I just wanted to make sure he wasn't falling in with the wrong crowd. No offense, but demons aren't the best of company for someone as fragile as him." She gave him a winning smile, but something seemed to pain her, as if a headache had rolled in. her eyebrow only twitched in response, however, before she continued talking.

"In either case, Hanabi-kun has gotten himself in a bit of trouble in the past. I keep on trying to help him, but things always seem to screw themselves up, somehow. All I want to do is keep you, or that girl Holly, from getting hurt."

Jin was about to interject, but the bell cut sharply through the air. The girl, brushing her long blonde-brown hair out of her eyes, looked up, and grinned at Jin. "Well, looks like class is starting soon, isn't it? I better go." Her aura, although he hadn't noticed it before, collected in the palm of her hand, and she easily dispersed the shackles with sheer energy. Standing up, she dusted herself off, gave a salute to the wind master, and walked off.

"My name's Sa Hyung, by the way. See you around, chili pepper."

Jin rocketed from his perch in the tree as she rounded the corner, but the path was empty.

* * *

Another damn job... and so soon after the last report, he was started to wonder just what was going through the head of that idiot employer of his. Save humanity, his ass. What good would it be if he got beat to a pulp in the meantime? He wasn't stupid, he had sent one of his dust spiders to overhear Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Lark's conversation. Needless to say, it wouldn't be in his best interest if there was a shred of proof linking him to the crime; God forbid they actually catch him in the act.

As Rogerik deftly slid out through the basement window, he pulled the leather carrying case up after him and popped the electrical coil into the portable messenger. So, he had been provided with a floor plan this time, and loop footage for the security cameras. That and it was a private building instead of a museum this time. Consolance, perhaps, for making the other jobs so hard for him?

The power coil flared bright amber, and a hole in the air appeared next to him. Hrm... the boss man was really stretching his neck out this time. His next target must be a serious threat if it got into the wrong hands. The thief looked about, making sure none of the lights were on, and silently stepped through the tear in the dimensional barrier.

From the window, Lark watched it all with stormy eyes.

* * *

"I can't believe it!" What was it, the ninth time the carrot-top had repeated the statement? In any case, it was starting to get on Yusuke's nerves.

"Yeah, well, believe it, Kuwabara. I tried warning you before, but you wouldn't listen."

"Sit on it, Urameshi."

"Quiet." Both boys turned to Lark, who had more sense than the two of them, and had pulled on a warm jacket to block out the late-night chill before they had left. When she had woken the two tantei (Hiei was off somewhere for the night, most likely he had found a suitable tree; Kurama, she had no idea. In any case, he hadn't been in the group's shared room.), she had seemed to be drained of energy. Now, as they ran towards the energy signal - and thus, to get onto a 24-hour shuttle that took students and staff to Meucca - she wasn't even up for a suitable quip. It was... unnerving, to say the least.

They ran in silence for nearly five minutes, and Yusuke could see the street lamp above the shuttle station glow a faint yellow. They slowed, stepping into the yellow-tinted light, and Kuwabara collapsed on the wooden bench that was underneath a large chart with pick-up and drop-off times for the shuttle. Yusuke looked at the schedule, checked his own watch, and leaned against the Plexiglas three-walled shelter that protected passengers from the brunt of the elements. They had a good five minutes until the shuttle showed up, and a ten-minute drive to Meucca. Once they were off, it was back on the chase, with Kuwabara sensing the energy trail left by the vortex like a bloodhound.

_Well, at least the idiot is good for something..._

Eerily quiet, it was. Somewhere across the road, the spirit detective caught the ghostly white of a discarded plastic bag float and crinkle along the ground. A strong gust of wind carried it farther down the road, seemingly dancing in the air as it went. The street lamp flickered, and Yusuke eyed his other companion. Lark had wrapped her coat around herself, burying her face in the faux-fur-lined collar. Her black hair lifted in the breeze, playing about her face, and her blue-gray eyes were tired.

The Japanese teen winced as he stretched his shoulders and heard a sharp crack from his neck. God, he should have been asleep long before this; there was a test tomorrow that he had to pass.

Three pairs of eyes turned down the road, watching the glaring white headlights grow as the distance closed between them. The shuttle, a white bus that resembled those used for the elderly, pulled to a stop in front of the station, and they hustled on. While he seated himself on the cushioned seat, Yusuke forced himself to keep his eyes open; the bus was warm and quiet, save the soft humming of the engine - the sort of environment that lulled you to sleep. At least when they got off again, there'd be something to keep the blood flowing, something to keep him from falling into slumber.

* * *

He had to move quickly. Before, time restrictions had been tight, but never this bad; small wonder "his holiness" and "commandeer of the paycheck" had given so much info for him to start with.

He stood by the massive skylight that graced the high ceiling, and casually ran a hand over the locking mechanism. Why the owner of this house would bother putting a skylight in such an important room, much less one that could open when it was nearly twenty feet above the floor, was a mystery to him. It wasn't as if it was convenient enough to let a breeze through using the skylight, so perhaps the owner had conceived of such a possible burglary as what was happening right now and decided that if the thief was going to steal some of his most precious possession, he might as well have the dramatic and classic entrance that was common in so many spy movies. Yes, that time-honored tradition of opening said skylight, dropping a rope down, and sliding down to the floor, where one could then walk across the room, figure out how to unlock the picture frame (or better yet, take the frame as well), then escape through the same means of entrance.

Perhaps if the business of thievery didn't work out, he could be a home security salesman. People around here were sure stupid enough to be in need of his assistance.

...Funny thing, that. Here he was on an extremely important mission, and all he could think of were ways to keep himself out. Maybe it was getting too easy; there was no thrill anymore, not even when the lock clicked open of it's own accord and he carefully lifted the glass plate to make sure it didn't slam back down and set off any sound-activated alarms.

He pulled a loop of rope from underneath his short jacket, separated a heavy weight at the end from the length of kevlar rope, and pressed a button on said weight. Claws shot out, and Rogerik gently placed the weight upon one of the steel skylight girders; the claws clasped around the support, and he could feel the soft pulse as magnetism anchored it firmly in place. With a final check to make sure everything was in place, and no one was watching him, he clipped his belt to the rope, which had been dropped to the hall floor, and slowly lowered himself down. When he was a yard off the ground, he released the rope and dropped, a cloud of dust rising as his feet hit the floor.

Unclipping himself, he made a quick probe into the far corners of the room, silently searching for any security or alarm system whatsoever. A heat-sensitive kekkai surrounded the painting, which was propped on an easel and shrouded with an expensive-looking gray cloth. Now Rogerik was starting to get unnerved; even this kekkai was pitifully weak.

Something told him that there was a reason why such a "rare" painting hadn't been stolen; too few obstacles, too many careless mistakes taken in the preparation of the room. The closer he got to the large painting, the moonlight shimmering across the silken veil, the more every nerve in his body tingled. He might not have been as sensitive as Kuwabara, but even the thief knew when something was amiss.

With a flick of the wrist, the kekkai was dissipated, and Rogerik reached out towards the framed painting, before drawing his hand back with a grimace. There was definitely something wrong here; what he had felt from the covered canvas wasn't friendly in the least.

On the bright side, at least now he knew why that pain wanted the painting. Now, all he had to do was ignore the gut-wrenching feeling he got whenever he so much as touched it, take it out of the frame (and hope it didn't blind him or something of the like when he uncovered it), safely move it into the case slung across his back, and get out of there. Sadly, he hadn't brought a fake; he simply hadn't bothered, since it would take too much time and it wasn't as if anyone would check anytime soon to see if it was still there.

Rogerik gritted his teeth, reaching out towards the painting again; perhaps if his head wasn't constantly buzzing from the ki the painting was giving out, he would have noticed the trio standing underneath the skylight behind him.

In any case, the flash of blue light that blurred over his shoulder and left a smoldering mark on the wall in front of him was enough of a warning. At the sheer stupidity of it all, the thief chuckled, and turned around to face the spirit detective, hands in his pocket.

"Any reason why you're shooting at me?"

"I dunno... any reason why you broke into some rich idiot's mansion?" Although Rogerik was treating it like a joke, Yusuke was seriously grim. Well, that, the blond supposed, he could understand. Sighing, he sobered up.

"Yusuke, if you interfere, you're making a big mistake."

Another spirit gun blasted the wall, and Rogerik put all his willpower into not flinching. It was then he noticed the other two; Kuwabara and... God, it was Lark. If there was any time he wanted to make himself disappear, it was now, from underneath her hurt eyes. But he couldn't let his guard down.

"Look, if you don't mind, I'm on a schedule here."

"If you don't have anything to say worth hearing, I suggest you get away from that... thing." All the while, the spirit detective continued to let the next charge for his spirit gun ready itself, although the thief was fairly certain that it wouldn't be aimed at him. But, it was best not to take chances.

A heavy silence filled the air, and all the while the thief kept an eye on the large antique clock set into the far wall, behind his three roommates. If his info was right, he had about another five minutes to get the painting out of there before it was lost to him; why there was a set time, he had no idea.

"I don't care why you're doing this, and I don't care how long you've been at it. Let's just leave." Lark placed a hand on Yusuke's outstretched arm, lowering it and aiming his spirit gun at the floor. "Come on, Rogerik, please." He had never really seen the girl use such a tone with him before, and it almost distracted him enough to move away from the painting beside him.

The messenger in his pocket vibrated, then a loud beeping came from its tiny speakers, jarring the thief back to the task at hand. How long did he have left..?

Only two minutes... he was never going to get this done on time. The most important mission he had been given, and here it was all falling apart, thanks to Yusuke. If his employer ever found out, he'd be furious -- not that Rogerik would be around to hear it.

If he _was_ caught, it would be a very long trip down to Hell.

Yusuke, noticing that the moment of indecision which had halted his roommate was gone, took aim again. As soon as the thief took a step back towards the shrouded object, he released the energy from his finger – a blast of energy that Rogerik easily dodged. Yusuke swore as the blond took hold of the framed painting, and heard Rogerik literally hiss in pain. The black-haired teen had to give the rogue credit; Rogerik wasn't letting go.

"You idiot!" Yusuke ran over towards his roommate, just as the bell tolled from the clock behind him. Still, he heard the furious clicking and snaps, and knew what it was: Rogerik's PK was unlocking the frame, and he was planning to take off with the painting no matter what threats the spirit detective could come up with. Puzzling, yes; Yusuke had known Rogerik to be the type to run if anything went wrong, so what was the situation now?

**_Bong..._**

Stupid clock... it was ridiculously loud, and if they didn't get out of there soon, they would be caught by the owners of the house.

**_Bong... Bong..._**

Halfway across the floor to Rogerik, Lark noticed a funny thing. The skylight... it was shutting of it's own accord, and between the bell strikes, she thought she heard something else. There was a definite slam, and the rope fell into a heap on the floor, severed through.

_**Bong...Bong...Bong...**_

Was it her imagination, or was the bell speeding up? Then again, she was too busy watching as Rogerik freed the sheet of canvas from its frame. He rolled it up hastily, only to look straight into Yusuke's fist as it connected with his cheek. The painting fell to the floor, half-into the leather case that the thief had brought along, and Rogerik followed, only to catch himself instead of sprawling out.

_**Bong...Bong...Bong....**_

"Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

"Frankly, I couldn't care less." He cracked his knuckles, then reared back. Rogerik, expecting another punch, flinched, only to be grabbed by the collar of his jacket.

"Urameshi, we gotta get outta here. Something's not right." Kuwabara..? Yes, that was who was keeping him on his feet. But, now that the sting of Yusuke's first strike was fading away (most likely to become a fairly nasty bruise by the next morning), he noticed it as well.

There was something... it was tearing away at the normal plane of existence, and he turned moss-green eyes towards the clock at the back of the room. The cast-iron curls and coils that held into the wall were rattling, and the clock hands were spinning around at an insane speed.

...Forget about the bruise tomorrow.

_**Bong...Bong...**_

"Yusuke, he's right. We better leave. Now."

_**Bong...**_

As the final bell tolled, the room was thrown into darkness.

There was no noise; no grand entrance. He couldn't see an inch in front of his face, and it seemed even the pull of gravity on him was weakened, but at least nothing had attacked. And it had seemed so, too, what with the build of energy behind the clock and all...

He felt Kuwabara's hold on his jacket release, and he landed smartly on his feet. Yusuke, once eager to beat the living daylights out of him, was over to his right, completely silent. Kuwabara was right behind him, so where was Lark?

* * *

"G-guys? Hey, where are you?" She took a step backwards, searching the black void that was the room. Midnight had struck, and nothing had happened, except for perhaps a power outage. But it was such an unnatural dark; nothing was visible. She supposed the skylight had been blocked, as an extra precaution to keep thieves from escaping, but then someone would have been here by now.

"Yusuke? Rogerik? Kuwabara? Can you hear me? Hey!" No reply... were they ignoring her, or..? Or what? Maybe she didn't really want to know. Well, for starters, she had seen a door over somewhere along the wall to her left, so she might be able to find a power switch there. With a sudden burst of clear thinking, she called forth some of her spirit energy in her palm, intending to use it to light her way, if not to calm her nerves.

There was nothing. She could feel her energy resonating in her grasp, but no light.

Okay, now she was scared.

"Hey, can you guys hear me at all?" It was a useless cry for help, but she started moving towards the left anyways. Once she got her back to a wall, she would feel better.

Something solid met her probing fingers, and she gladly paced her whole onto it, and suddenly wished she hadn't. It was cold, slimy, and unusually soft and fleshy-feeling. Her hand recoiled, but the solid object followed and wrapped itself about her arm. Nevertheless, Lark shrieked.

At the sound, the room burst into light and color. But not from what she had expected.

Floating in the air in front of her, well, she couldn't explain exactly what it was, but it resembled a giant cuttlefish in form. The tentacles were devoid of any suckers, but its entire body was lit up like some sort of bizarre fireworks display. If Lark hadn't been scared to death, she might have found the creature captivating, beautiful almost.

"Kyaaaaah!"

As one could guess, this wasn't the case. The screams seemed to only agitate it, as the cuttlefish's horizontal pupils narrowed to slits and it lifted Lark into the air, allowing the girl to dangle nearly five feet off the ground by her arm. The colors continued to flash across her vision, in a continually shifting wheel of shades and hues, and filled out the strange markings across the creature's soft, streamlined body. The fin that edged its arrow-shaped mantle rippled and moved as if the cuttlefish was underwater. But, although all of this was going on, she still couldn't see either of her male companions.

God, this had gone wrong so quickly... was this why there was practically no security in the building? Did the owners use this thing as some sort of attack dog? Rogerik had mentioned something about a schedule. Either way, it would take a miracle to save her now.

"Must I supervise you every step of the way, Rogerik? Yusuke?"

Lark blinked, then saw a fairly tall figure stride towards her. Purple robes clothed him, and she squinted to make out what was written upon the young man's forehead. "Jr.?"

"King Enma Jr., to you, Lark. I apologize for the incompetence of both my employees."

King Enma Jr..? Wait, she knew this bit of trivia; granted it would be easier to think if she wasn't hanging like a rag doll. Son of Enma... _Koenma_.

* * *

Dun-dun-dunnnnn..! Weren't expecting that, were ya?!

Well, this is a fairly long chapter compared to the other nine. I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I'll be trying to get chapter eleven up soon. ;; How soon, however, depends on how much writer's block hates me. Now, where's Grimmy when you need him..? Stupid furball. -.-

Review and make me happy! No, really -- every review donates 50 cents to the "Cuttlefish Are People Too!" campaign.


	11. On an October Night

Quote of the Week: "Running is an unnatural act, except from enemies and to the bathroom." -unknown

Reviewer Replies:

Ebbster: ::blinks:: The cuttlefish is still there; currently, it is holding Lark hostage. 0 o

Ciardra: Ne, you have no idea, Ciardra... no idea. ;; Just don't let Azure-chan hear that cuttlefish comment.

Pegacorn: Er, good luck on your own ficcie, buddy. And, I'm back on schedule, so all is good. You find out about Koenma this chapter! W00t!

Azuredragoness: Alfred is your homeboy, Azure-chan. . Treat him well.

Punnamechibi: Why I'm replying to you, I don't know. However, taking up space on my review –board-thingy instead of E-mailing me is kinda useless. You wanna talk? By all means, the info is all on my bio. It'll be a pleasure, I'm sure, and I will be waiting for you.

* * *

What was Koenma doing here? He had said something about Rogerik and Yusuke being under his employ, but... it was too confusing to someone who was being tossed around by the mollusk of doom.

"Now, if you don't mind, I have a bit of clean-up to deal with." The brunette prince placed a hand upon the cuttlefish's soft body and Lark could see the reiki emanating from his fingertips. A squeal came from the mollusk out of water, and it recoiled from Koenma's touch, dropping Lark as it did. Koenma helped the girl to his feet, and continued to fire small spurts of reiki at the cuttlefish. Said creature as changing colors faster than the eye could follow, and lit up the entire room much like a strobe light.

The room was stark white at the random intervals of light, and everything seemed to move in slow motion, or stop-photography. It was so bright, in fact, that all present saw a humanoid figure leap out from the shadows, grab the painting from beside Rogerik's feet, and scamper away from them. Kuwabara and Yusuke both powered their weapons, the bright orange of the spirit sword illuminating the room when the cuttlefish turned dark, and a flash of blue tore through the would-be thief.

"Wha..? The CRAP?!"

Yusuke's thoughts were shared by all. Although the assailant had been shot clean through the chest, he didn't slow, or even miss a step. Instead, he folded himself into a paper crane and flew towards the wall, disappearing into a landscape painting mounted on the far wall opposite the door.

Needless to say, it was enough of a distraction to break Koenma's focus, and Lark had to shake the prince's shoulder to get him to realize the current situation. It was best not to wander off in thought when one was fighting an angry cuttlefish of doom. Honey-hued eyes narrowed, Koenma watched as the clock face distorted and the room was steeped in pitch black again. Lark clutched onto his arm with ungodly strength for a young girl, and once the unnatural dark had faded to be replaced by a slightly brighter night, he rubbed his sore arm to try and get the blood flowing back into it.

There was no creature; it had escaped. Even now, the clock was ticking from one past midnight to two minutes.

"It ran?" Kuwabara blinked, his spirit sword fading away in his hands. Rogerik knelt down and picked up the empty case for the twice-stolen painting, and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, well, something tells me we have a bigger problem..."

"Oh, you have no idea."

At the junior lord's words, all four students couldn't help but cringe. Inwardly, Yusuke hoped whoever was higher up than Koenma (besides his father) would spare them.

* * *

"Oh, God, you are alright, aren't you?" Lark stiffened at first, but quickly hugged her sister back. She had felt the same before, when the others had put forth their best on the night Giovanni had left, and she had been left in the house; awake and aware of it all, yet unable to help. Kurama started to get up from his armchair, but Lark gave him as genuine a smile as she could.

"Don't worry, we're fine. Personally, I didn't think Rogerik would get himself in this deep. If I had known..." The younger Admarant sister trailed off, and Kurama gave her an understanding nod. It was logical, really; who would hire a high-school kid to keep the peace?

Apparently, Koenma.

The young lord had entered the room fairly regally, considering he was a bit miffed over having to save them all _and _teleporting them back to their dorm. But, as Yusuke had pointed out to her, the prince would rot in his throne before being degraded to taking a public bus. Pulling his cape out behind him so he didn't sit on it, the prince sat down on the couch, and laced his fingers together, resting his elbows on his knees. Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Rogerik had already found seats, either on the floor, or having dragged in a chair from the dining room.

"Now, where do I begin..?" The prince mused. Yusuke shot Koenma an irate look, and crossed his arms. "Try the part where you hired him." The spirit detective jerked a thumb at Rogerik, and Koenma sweatdropped.

"Well, there is a thievery program here for a reason... good work is hard to find these days, especially for Reikai. And Rogerik is rather gifted in that particular field of work."

"And so isn't Kurama! Or does the name "Youko" not ring a bell?" Kurama stiffened at Yusuke's blatant mention of his other form, but Koenma didn't even bat an eye. "Perhaps you should be quieter, Yusuke. You'll wake up your roommates, and I don't want anyone worrying over what you just did tonight."

"What _I_ did? You kept me in the dark, knowing that _he_-" Another thumb-jab in Rogerik's general direction. "- used my own home to hide from the police, reports of theft have been popping up every other day, and that I've been suspicious of him from the get-go!'

"Well, the news wasn't supposed to carry over this far... I thought that they had been paid to keep the wraps on it all, but I suppose that it's my fault as well. We were running short on time, and Givanni was growing in power."

"Whoa, wait, Givanni's in on this?" Kuwabara asked, and Lark could see most of the inhabitants of the room give the prince of spirit world a number of surprised looks (she supposed she was one of them, as well). Oddly enough, Kurama's face was emotionless. Had he known about it..?

"It's simple to figure out. Givanni uses paintings and pictures as weapons, and all of those reports were stolen artworks." The voice, low and dangerous, originating from the stairwell, and Kuwabara shot a glare at who had spoken. "Well, excuse me for needing a little more time, midget."

Hiei, not at all upset by the comment, appeared next to Kurama's chair in a blur of black. For once, Mara was absent from around his shoulders and neck. "Even you shouldn't have had to think that long. After all, he had held you prisoner in one such painting." Apparently, even Kuwabara didn't have an answer to that, and just glared at the shorter demon. Kurama softly chuckled, and waved a hand at the two. "Now, now... there's no time for arguing betwixt ourselves."

"Exactly. Now, since Hiei brought up a good point, the same painting that Givanni used to trap Kuwabara has been confiscated by Reikai. Such another piece of art would be a disaster if left in his hands; therefore, we've been putting them into safekeeping."

"By stealing them?" Lyra looked doubtful, and Yusuke only grunted in agreement from his spot on the floor. Koenma coughed, and seemed to find the carpet an interesting object to inspect. "To tell the truth, it's the fastest method possible. All of Reikai's best thieves are working on it, and for quite some time now. It was the first step suggested once Givanni escaped our trackers." At this, the prince heaved a great sigh and stood up.

"In any case, you two-" He pointed at Yusuke and Rogerik. "Have just tossed Reikai intelligence under the bus. I doubt Givanni will leave Reikai intelligence enough time to cover up what's happening, and that particular painting you so splendidly had snatched from under your noses has most likely undid everything Kurama and Hiei had done for the case during the summer."

Except for the two demons mentioned, all eyes turned to the pair. Kurama seemed a bit taken aback by the statement, but sweatdropped and raised his hands in a display of defeat. "Now, you give us too much credit, Koenma. I doubt it was so important if you sent Rogerik to steal it. No offense, however, from thief to thief."

"Understood. The truth is, Oikawa has gone missing."

"Oh, I know him!" A light bulb seemed to flicker to life above Lark's head, and it wasn't just a figure of speech, for once.

"What are you all doing awake at this time o' th' nigh'..? Eh, Koenma-dono!" Jin straightened up, all tiredness forgotten. "Lord, what are you doing here?"

Koenma raised an eyebrow, then gave a sidelong glance at the assembled students. "Discussing some important matters; I do believe you may want to listen." Turning away from the shinobi, Koenma nodded to Lark. "Yes, he is head of the thieving program I had founded here. And he has gone missing, and the target he had been sent to steal."

"So you blame this on me?" the spirit detective was beyond angry, and glared at his accuser. "What did you expect me to do? You left me out of the loop!"

"To prevent you from screwing things up," was the simple reply.

"Yeah, well, if you sent Rogerik after the painting, then Kurama's right; it's no big deal."

With all that said and done, the black-haired teen stood up and casually walked away from his boss. "Since you're done, I think I'm going to bed now."

A faint glimmer of blue surrounded Yusuke as the teen defied gravity and floated back to the room. "Kurama's hypothesis is wrong. It is a big deal." With an undignified thump, Yusuke fell onto the floor, wincing as he whacked the not-so-cushy coffee table with his elbow.

"This particular painting isn't strong by itself. It's when you channel in power from other sources that it takes form. And, given the right source..."

"Power isn't that hard t'get, actually... If you're talking about physical energy, at least." Jin seemed to think for a moment, and sighed. "Actually, all Givanni really needs to do is find a demon willing to help him... one with enough juice to give it a kick-start until he finds a more stable source."

"And energy is found anywhere," Rogerik finished. The blond shook his head slowly. "He could even hook the thing up to a _potato_, for all it matters..."

"Don't get my hopes up, please." The brunette prince managed a small, grim smile. "We need to get it back, as well as the other taken from Oikawa. And I would appreciate it if you stay out of my way."

_Bwink_

And then, the prince was gone.

* * *

_Stay out of my way..._ For some odd reason, this bothered Yusuke greatly. He should have been glad for the break, this he knew, but it put him off. The toddler was trying to stop a guy this important _without_ the help of the indispensable spirit detective? Why, For shame.

Okay, he had to admit, right about now, cleaning bat crud off of the hutch doors, he wasn't that awe-inspiring.

"I can't believe we got detention for that stunt," He muttered, wiping his forehead with his wrist. Rogerik, across the room, merely shrugged and continued to alphabetize the many books in Ryo's possession. "Don't make it seem like you're the only one suffering, Yusuke."

The black-haired teen paused in his scrubbing of the guano-encrusted perches, and raised an eyebrow at the thief. "Oh, trust me... keep it up and that'll seem like heaven."

A silent showdown, in which the two compared each other's various punishment – one up to his elbows in bat muck, while the other had twelve four-foot-high stacks of Latin tomes clustered about him – and the intercom buzzed loudly.

"Are you two done, yet? I have a late class coming in around eight." Ryo, taunting them in a singsong voice. Of course they had to stay after-hours once Rachel found out... Koenma never just "stopped by for a visit"; something had to be wrong. And, as she had guessed, something was.

So, for unwittingly aiding in Givanni's plot to come back out of hiding, they had been given a month's straight detention. Considering that said comeback could wipe out quite a number of living creatures, he supposed he had gotten off easy. The worst part was still what Koenma had said...

Keeping him out of all of this just because Reikai was worried he might screw up? And that explained why Kurama had been at that "Student Ambassador" program...

"Hey, what are you guys doing cleaning the tower room? Ryo said his class was being held in the study hall today."

Both boys looked up at the newcomer, who blinked at them with rather deep blue eyes. Wings reminiscent to those of a Monarch butterfly, only in shades of slate and gray, slowly fluttered at her back, and her blue hair fell in her face.

Noticing the surprise on Yusuke and Rogerik's faces, Clarice sweatdropped and slowly back away from the door. "Oh, uh, if I'm interrupting, I'm sorry..." Her retreat was halted by Yusuke, who had crossed the room at an amazing speed and grabbed her slim wrist. "He said what?"

"Uh, who?" Clarice blinked in confusion, already forgetting what she had mentioned just mere moments before.

"Ryo. What did he tell you?"

"That classes were in a different building tonight. You can get off early and finish up tomorrow." The fairy almost mistook Yusuke's sudden movement for physical contact, but only blinked even more fiercely when he literally seemed to... well, whatever the spirit detective prayed to. Puzzling... he hadn't seemed like the religious type to her.

"I am so outta here!"

"Eh, uh, hey! Don't run so fast!" Rogerik grabbed his leather pilot's jacket and followed his roommate out the door, quickly apologizing to Clarice as he accidentally shoved her into the wall. The winter fairy shook her head slowly, as if to clear it, and shut the door to Ryo's classroom, locking it with the extra key the elf had given her (since she had been hired as an assistant teacher for extra class credits). Listening to the two boys' footsteps on the stone floor, she faintly smiled and opened the window at the end of the hall, letting her wings carry her to her own dorm.

* * *

"Okay, that wasn't even faintly funny."

"Ah, stop whining. At least we got out early." Yusuke stretched, his neck cracking.

"Yeah, but it's still pitch-black out."

Indeed, it was. Only a little more than a month into fall, and the sun had set much earlier, at six. No one was wandering about campus now, so the lights that normally illuminated the pathways were pathetically dim. Add the late-night October fog, and it wasn't the exactly most scenic route home.

They walked on in silence, the blond keeping a good distance from Yusuke. What he wouldn't give to be inside... at least he could see where everything was. And there was always this nagging feeling that someone or something was watching them. The thief doubted Yusuke had noticed it; the other teen was much cockier, and sometimes blocked such small insecurities out.

It not only made Yusuke extremely prone to be the hero of the tale, but also made him a victim of the same lack of common sense that got many a horror-film protagonist into the haunted house.

"Hey, care to shed a little light?"

Yusuke blinked at the request, then laughed. "Oh, so you want a night light, eh?" With a sigh, Rogerik stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and shivered. "No, I want to be able to see."

"Fine, fine..." Yusuke grinned, a grin that looked less devilish and more good-natured as his sky blue aura lit up the pathway - and then some. That grin was suddenly replaced by a confused glare, and Rogerik felt the same feeling of being watched as the spirit detective stared at something over his shoulder.

"Man, move to your right, will you?" The aura glow from Yusuke didn't fade, but grew concentrated at his fingertip, and he motioned for Rogerik to step over to the side. One step, one tiny sound of sole on cobblestone, and the tree behind him ripped apart in a tangle of bark and leaves and rushing wind. Leathery skin brushed against his face, and high-pitch shrieks echoed in his ear as the bats whirled around the two boys and finally took off into the night sky.

Rogerik let his breath go, and silently cursed Ryo for letting his pets bats roam about at night. "Well, glad that's all," he muttered, then noticed that Yusuke's spirit gun was still charged and ready to fire. "Eh, what is it..?"

Cold metal slid across the back of his neck, and he could feel his hair being twisted around slender fingers. His gray-green eyes opened wide, the thief hoped to high heaven that his psychic abilities suddenly extended to telepathy. If they did, maybe he could convey to Yusuke the fact that shooting the Rei gun right not would be a bad thing; whatever was touching him was in close proximity to his head, and he was sure Yusuke's spirit gun would probably break his neck with the shock wave that accompanied it.

"Heh-heh-heh..." the laughter was cold, calculating, but thankfully ended soon enough as whatever it was took to the sky, metal wings flapping in the chilly air. There was only the reflection of blue reiki off of black iron as it disappeared into the fiery foliage, and all became quiet.

* * *

W00t... Wednesday, and KKC-chan finished! What pestered the boys, late at night? Well, in any case, you're not going to find out now, are you?

Next chapter!

Beware light-hearted happyfullness as the boys are dragged out Halloween shopping. .

Why one shouldn't have play sword fights in the house. o.0;;

Jin tries to make amends with Hanabi.


	12. Hallow

Quote of the week: "One of the first things schoolchildren in Texas learn is how to make a simple declarative sentence without the word "shit" in it." – Unknown.

W00t! Hopeless happy stuff. Although it's pretty strange writing a Halloween-time section in January. . Er... this would have been up around Halloween, originally, if I hadn't been so lazy.

Reviewer replies:

AzureDragoness: He normally wouldn't notice... but Givanni is very slippery and hard to catch. Yusuke isn't one for tact and planning (as we all know). Hanabi won't do anything too evil… At least, not yet. ::huggles Grimoire:: Yay! KKC got her muse back!

Ebbster: Darn right I'm silent. Patience is a good thing, my friend.

Embyrflame: Finally! You're writing a fic, eh? I'll be there for it. I can even be your beta-reader if you want. Oh, and how was the NY trip?

Kurama's girl: Nice to know you like it, you unidentifiable reader, you!

Pegacorn: Me, high? Only on life, my friend. Oh, and you remember when Koenma did the lion-thingy in the tape for Yukina's rescue? That just keeps popping into my head when I think of the prince.

Ryuu no Furui Yami: Ne, you live! Don't worry; Touya/Yukimi fluff shall come next chapter.

So Bored: ::blinks:: Um... yay, me? Oh, and the more humorous stuff comes a bit later; this story is a bit darker than it's predecessor.

* * *

He ducked underneath a cascade of thin, pulled-out cotton, and pushed a few stray wisps out of his hair. "Erika, is this really necessary? All this webbing?"

"Of course, Kurama. Now, be a dear and toss me that bag of plastic spiders." The old woman caught the Ziploc baggie effortlessly, and immediately starting scattering tiny black fake spiders upon the false webbing. Climbing down the ladder, she stepped back a few meters and inspected her handiwork. "Well, what do you think? Is it a bit much?"

"Erm..." In truth, the fox didn't know how to reply. Fake Halloween webbing had been placed upon the house, and, although usually a quaint decoration, the elder woman had gone a bit overboard, in his opinion. Starting from the top of the roof, it shrouded the entire house in a swirling mix of white and pale glow-in-the-dark green; the fluffy mass even had engulfed the front steps and gone as far as the plum tree in the front yard. He was also fairly sure he saw the telltale black box of a strobe light hooked up on the front steps. Next thing, he supposed would be a number of-

"Oh, Koryu, so kind of you to get the fog machines out of the tool shed for me."

Bulls-eye.

The rat-like monster gently lowered the small machines onto the grass, and purred slightly as Erika gave him a quick scratch behind the ears. Kurama sighed and shook his head. "I take it this year you're going all-out."

"Of course. In fact, the girls are going down to the city today, so perhaps you would like to join them?"

The fox paused and thought. There was still plenty of work to be done, and the recent workings of Givanni had unnerved him – how could one relax when their enemy had a possible super-weapon? But, one day wouldn't kill him, would it?

"Actually, I think I might go," he stated. Erika nodded and finished checking the fog machines.

"Well, then, off with you. They're leaving in about twenty minutes."

* * *

"Knave, how dare ye?"

"Sit on it, furball!"

They ducked and wheeled around, steel flashing, barely skirting past the edges of the dining room table. Justin lunged forwards and growled as Lyonell leapt backwards in a graceful dodge, alighting on a chair. The neko demon, with a rather outlandish pirate's hat (complete with an overly large and fluffy feather plume that came from the hatband) balanced at an angle on his ears, balanced the chair on it's two back legs and continued to parry and block Justin's various attempts.

Just as the human was sure he had the upper hand, Lyonell leapt over his head and Justin felt a faint prick in between his shoulder blades.

"Care to walk the plank, sir?"

"Don't think so." He fell to his knees, swinging his sword, and pointed the tip at Lyonell's stomach. The cat grinned, and brushed a bit of blond hair out of his green eyes. "Two out of three."

"You're on."

Another lap around the table, and this time, Justin knew that there would be no way for him to end it in a draw. Unless...

He braced one foot on the seat of a chair and hopped onto the table, Lyonell following flawlessly behind. The swords moved even faster, but the both of them had ridiculously happy grins on their faces. All that could be heard now was the furious whistling air, chiming steel, and their footsteps as they tried not to topple anything over. Lyonell struck as sudden blow, and Justin barely moved far enough to the side; as it was, the corner of his jacket – a long coat in the ornate style of a ship's captain's – was speared and pinned to the tiered bamboo cuttings that took up space as a centerpiece.

Lyonell grinned , most devilishly, his lips curling over his unusually sharp canine teeth. With a grimace, Justin realized that he had lost, indefinitely, and he had only wait for the finale...

"What in the **_Hell_** are you two doing?!"

Both boys flinched at the sound of her voice. Yes, the finale, indeed.

"I leave you alone to root through the attic for a half hour, and what do you do? Tear apart the house!" Chrysanthemum fixed the seat cushion on the one of the chairs, and continued snapping at her two roommates. "—And why else, but because it's only the "logical" thing to do. And... and what in the world are you wearing..?" She cocked her head at the two boys, and they sweatdropped.

Searching through the attic, they had found their current ensemble in an old steamer trunk: swords and all. The female twin blinked owlishly and raised an eyebrow. It looked like the two of them had mugged Captain Hook for the Disney villain's clothing...

Lyonell was the first to react, as he pulled his sword free from the table centerpiece and Justin's jacket. "Now, Chrys, this isn't what it looks like."

He was met with a blank stare, and the sword dropped and its tip impaled itself in a place mat. Justin sighed, and hopped down from the table.

"Look, we'll clean up, okay?"

Chrysanthemum seemed to break her gaze away from her twin and huffed, crossing her arms as she did so. "Of course you will, after you run into town with me to get some stuff for Halloween. Then again, it seems like you two already have your costumes..."

Justin blushed and quickly shrugged off the captain's jacket. "Well, urm..."

"I thought so. Now hurry up so we can catch the shuttle into town." With a subtle smirk, the cat girl left.

* * *

Stone met skeleton, and the bones scattered across the cobblestone streets. Within seconds, firefly-eyes lit up, and the mess pieced itself back together, forming a canine-like skeleton that pranced about the sidewalk.

"Oi, Bones, if you're gonna tag along, at least don't fall apart."

The dog looked over towards its master, and trotted over, tail wagging. Kuwabara, carrying quite the load of shopping bags, sweatdropped.

"I told you bringing him with us was a bad idea." Lark walked by the carrot-top, unhindered, followed by her sister and Holly. Bones wriggled about the younger water manipulator, looking for a head-pat or scratch along his bare ribs, and she gladly rewarded the dog with a hug and squeal.

"A bad idea?" Kurama asked, sweatdropping at the sight. Kuwabara, however, was less restrained. "If you don't mind, I'd like it if you stopped hugging _my_ dog."

Lark blinked, and cuddled the skeleton further. "But he's so _cute_."

"Now, now, let Bones walk on his own." Lyra graciously pet the canine skeleton on its skull, but almost lost her balance, thanks to the heavy bag that she was lugging around. As she struggled to regain her grip on the handle, though, Kurama plucked it from her hands. "Lyra, you should take a break. I'll take that."

The girl blinked as if trying to understand what was happening and latched onto the handle even more. What resulted was a minor tug-of-war match between the two. "No, you're already carrying too much, yourself, Kurama. Besides, I bought it."

"Ah, now don't argue..."

"Then please let go of the bag."

"You must be tired, though."

"Alright, you two stop bickering and I'll take it." Holly interrupted them, and scooped up the bag, balancing it on the handle of her broomstick. The broom floated behind her, with her own bags and Kyuro draped upon it. The black kitten turned a lazy eye to the humans, yawned, and draped himself in a new position over the broomstick. "Yes, leave it be. The girl can carry her own load."

"You're not helping much, Kyuro..." Holly grimaced at the familiar's bluntness, tweaking one of his velvety ears.

"In any case, do you know where Yusuke went? He's not really the type to go window shopping," Lark wondered aloud, looking about the cobblestone streets in search of the spirit detective. From underneath the burden of baggage, Kuwabara shrugged. "Urameshi can find his own way back." From Lark's arms, Bones' jaws clacked together in agreement, making Lark only cuddle the skeleton even further. "Ne, he's so smart!"

"Who? Urameshi?" Kuwabara asked, not able to see the subject of Lark's happy squeal. The girl narrowed gray-blue eyes at the much taller boy, and shot back, "No, you idiot. Bones." More happy clacking from the dog, and Holly rolled her eyes. "I'm just glad Yusuke isn't here to listen to you compare him to an animal without a brain."

Kyuro, from his perch, sighed and stood up, balancing on the broomstick as his spine arched and his jaws opened wide in a sharp-toothed yawn. Using one petite paw to wash his ears, the cat shook out his fur coat and jumped onto his witch's shoulders. "It isn't much of a comparison, really." The kitten ducked under Holly's haphazard swat, and dug his claws further into her shirt.

"Have pity, Holly. It's a holiday," The familiar mewed, and his witch gave him an odd look. "According to the school staff, Halloween doesn't count as enough of a holiday to call of class."

"But it's still on the calendar..."

With a roll of her eyes, Holly muttered, "I can't wait to pass you off to the next unlucky kid." The cat looked unusually hurt by this, and stayed silent. A new development all by itself.

* * *

"Is there a reason you called me out here?" Hanabi sat underneath the elderly maple tree, staring at the orange-red leaves that formed a brilliantly colored ceiling when compared to the deep blue of the afternoon sky. One such leaf floated down to land on his shoulder, contrasting sharply with the gray of his scarf, and he absent-mindedly brushed it off; the miniature burst of color joined it's other fallen companions littered about the green lawn.

At first, his presence had been carefully guarded, as if he expected an attack any moment. The more the youkai realized that nothing was afoot, however, he quickly loosened up and slumped casually along the tree branch over Hanabi's white-haired head. "Actually, there is. I'm not here to shoot the breeze or nothin'."

Hanabi could hear Him chuckle and tried to mentally swat the voice away. To tell the truth, he hadn't talked much or had been exceptionally close with the redhead; one half of him saw Jin as, ultimately, an obstacle to rid himself of. Blinking golden eyes, the boy thought; had that really been his original mental process, or had He somehow interfered somewhere along the way? Right about now he couldn't tell where he ended and He began...

And the other half... the other half pleaded that nothing bad would come out of all this.

He hated to let that half down, but... no, wait, he would listen to what Jin had to say.

Another minute and a half of silence. He could see some of the other younger students start a game of kickball on the lawn in front of him, and sighed. He remembered back when he was their age, in second grade or so, sitting on the sidelines as the rest of his team answered the opposing team's pitch. He had substituted for both teams, actually; as usual, the odd man out. And then she had come, with her incessantly cheerful and stubborn attitude. She hadn't been afraid in the least, had confronted him just because she heard he was trouble, and they had quickly bonded afterwards.

Hanabi frowned slightly, also remembering what had taken place in the five minutes during their confrontation, before said bonding. Being stuffed in a trashcan wasn't exactly number one on his list of fond memories...

"Hey, you listenin'?" The white-haired boy snapped back to the present, pushing the memory of blonde-ish hair and blue eyes to the far corners of his mind. His left eye prickled with pain, but Hanabi focused on Jin and shrugged.

"Yeah, I am. Still not getting your point, though." Was that him talking? To tell the truth, he was rarely ever so rude; the other two, however, weren't exactly masters of tact. Hanabi tried to process what Jin was saying and his current thoughts at the same time, no small strain on his tired mind.

Was he really himself anymore, or had they gained more control than he wished himself to believe? Whichever one won out, would he be able to fully adapt to them? That and the redhead above him was currently muttering something about some vague war.

**Kid, you're thinking too much. Just take the back seat and leave me in charge.**

_Oh, the day you get full control is the day I get my body back for good!_

Mentally, he sighed. It figured that They would pop up again as soon as they were mentioned. Always the voices...

Closing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows, the teenager tried to block out the two arguing in his head. Why in the world wouldn't they just shut up? Wait, the long-winded war recall was nearing an end. Now if he could just have a few seconds of quiet to focus.

**Okay, as much as I see it, we take out Jinny-boy, physically, and then go in for the girl. I know a guy who could probably help us out – for a bit of payment, of course.**

_Look, one more word about these "plans" of yours and you'll be out on your butt in the astral plane!_

**You've tried that before, toots.**

_Gaaarrgh! I hate you!_

It sounded like something of a mention of a truce of some sort, but he couldn't quite be certain. And those two idiots would have been throwing plates at each other, provided they had physical bodies and a good healthy supply of said dinner plates.

"Will you shut up?!"

"Eh?" Jin hopped down from the tree branch, letting himself hang by his arms for moment before touching down to earth. When Hanabi opened his eyes and the sound of the demon landing, he noticed that Jin's blue eyes were somewhere between annoyance and curiosity. The white-haired boy paused and thought back, then nearly slapped his forehead at his own stupidity. Had he said that out loud..?

_Oops._

**Well, isn't that a bugger?**

The two stopped fighting for a second, readily taking in their host's screw-up. Oops, indeed.

"Ah, uh, just thinking... nothing, really. I never said anything!" Hanabi furiously tried to recall his last statement, and got to his feet, holding a hand out to the demon. "In any case, what was that last bit?"

Jin cocked his head at the smaller boy, raising one red eyebrow. "To stop with the fightin'. To tell the truth, I have no idea what your problem is, but it's a waste of energy..."

"Ah, right!" Hanabi hastily blocked out the inner voices, all too aware that He was nearly ready to tear his head off. "Well, a deal's a deal, then."

**Noooo! Kid, don't ruin this!**

_Hanabi-kun, you didn't go over to the dark side!_

And they shook.

* * *

Cyan and Lilac energy floated in a net about him, each hue a spider-silk strand to one of his various artificial pets. They were invaluable to him, the key to gaining possible years worth of knowledge in mere minutes; without their aid, he doubted he would be where he was now. Doubted he would even be alive, actually. When he had stolen off into the night, some odd five-or-so months ago, one of these self-same pets had warned him and bought him enough time to escape unharmed. Of course, that wasn't to say they were totally beneficial. It took a lot of power to keep them all running and linked to him at the same time.

He opened his eyes, letting the energy net grace his vision as one of his "pets" floated up and landed on his shoulder. It resembled no living creature; it's body was more like some strange abstract sculpture than anything, with skin that had the same texture and smooth look as water. It flew using it's own power, yet no wings adorned it. In appearance, it was simple, symmetrical, rational, like some sort of machine.

He supposed that, in all truth, a machine was really all it was. Although much more pleasing to the eye and less dangerous, they didn't have a soul like the dead. Unlike these creations, the dead had once been living thinking beings. Compared to a malleable human soul, his current pets had limited abilities, at best; there was no way they could ever be tacticians, or creative. They had never known what it was like to feel pain – they never would.

Helpful as they were, they could never replace living flesh. So, why did he surround himself with these soulless shells? To shield his own psyche? He sighed and rested his chin on his hand. Now wasn't really the time to think of this...

The catalyst for his recent train of thought, seemingly annoyed by its master's musings (although, it really couldn't have been annoyed... it didn't have a soul to begin with.), nudged up against its master's chin. He blinked at the little creation's aggressiveness, and gave the thing his undivided attention as it reported back to him. This particular little being was a more recent work, and he had had enough time and patience to work a primitive AI in with its core. Said intelligence failed greatly in the face of human emotion, but it had come in rather handy as a spellchecker and thesaurus in previous models.

All Hallows Eve, when the wall between the living and dead was at it's weakest. He had been waiting for this opportunity, and was ready to pounce on it immediately. With a single thought, he reassigned nearly all of his artificial accomplices to the gathering of information on this new topic. Whatever happened, he had to make sure that the battle didn't swing in opposition of his interests.

* * *

Ooh... and hark the mysterious exposition guy and his exposition...

Okay, I'll be honest: I didn't put as much time into this as one would think. Been a bit busy during the last week, but a blizzard came up the coast during the weekend and I've had a lovely five days to write this. Three snow days... ugh. Strange as it is to hear, I miss school. I miss my buddies at school. I miss trudging across the highway to go to lunch. I miss banking stalls. I even miss cleaning the fish thanks. x x If that doesn't give you a clue as to how bored I've been lately, then what else can you look for? The hand of God?

... I am so going to get some bad karma for that last statement...

Grimoire: Noooo kidding, you imbecile. -.-

::sighs:: In any case, review and make me happy! . Because reviews are good, and help fight scurvy!

Grimoire: ... it's been a while since you've been this random.

Snow.

Grimoire: Ah.


	13. Rust Moon

Quote of the week: "Girls more than Boys,   
Children more than Adults,  
Loneliness more than Crowds,  
Side Streets more than Main Streets  
A-R-E D-A-N-G-E-R-O-U-S!" -Excerpt from King of Bandit Jing, book four. 

Ne, so many reviews, so much love (and so little scurvy).

Halloween is upon the group (strange to say that in February...) and we have mysterious exposition from some mysterious exposition-giving man! But is he an ally or another one of those pesky villain-types? Ne, enjoy yourselves.

Touya fluff for Ryuu-chan, since she hasn't been around for months.

* * *

True to the schedule Rachel set for herself, it was little surprise school wasn't called off for Halloween. Still, that didn't mean that he almost found himself wishing for the old headmaster (whom he heard was exceptionally lenient) when he found out. The one good thing, however, was the willingness of most of the teachers to make up for it with relative all-around good cheer.

So as he walked between classes, munching on some free candy corn, Hanabi watched some of the younger kindergarten-age students played some sort of Halloween-themed game of capture the flag. More less-than-amusing memories dislodged themselves from the depths of his mind, and he quickly brushed them away with artificially flavored goodness.

Perhaps he should stop watching sports... or separate himself from the lower grades. Young children and childhood games didn't mix well with his past experiences. Then again, the silence in his head was also unnerving. Once ecstatic for any sort of peace, when Hanabi had heard the lack of His voice, he had become worried.

After all, although a truce had been made with Jin, there was still the matter of Holly... and He had already planned it all out. Whoever these plans had been made with, Hanabi didn't know, but he could already tell the other one wasn't too happy about it. Even now, the white-haired teen could pictorially imagine Him sitting in a dark corner, tinkering around with his emotions or poring over some plans. A mentally captive mob boss? Perhaps... and the current predicament he was caught up in was his own pair of custom-fit cement shoes.

"Hey, what's with the dazed look?" Holly drifted down to earth, hopping off her broom and swinging it onto her shoulder as soon as her toes touched the ground.

Well, knock him unconscious and toss him in Tokyo harbor...

"Hanabi, hey!" She ran up to the boy, snagging a piece of candy corn from the little plastic baggie that he held, and smiled. Said smile gave him more of an adrenaline rush than any sugary candy ever could. Too bad he couldn't convert the energy into human speech at the moment...

"Uh, I was wondering, do you have any plans tonight? There's a big party going on downtown..."

Hanabi nodded dumbly, faintly aware that in the traditional roles of boy and girl, he should technically be the one asking this question. Not like he ever would have had the nerve... perhaps it was better to leave it to the witch. She seemed to be doing fine on her own; the girl was still smiling, no sign of a blush on her face. Such confidence – nevertheless he was a bit jealous of it.

Was that why she always seemed to be so much closer to Jin? Because the demon was equally at home among strangers as friends?

_You're getting ahead of yourself Hanabi-kun. Take it easy_.

For once, he was glad of the advice. When was the last time that other, purer, half of him had gotten through and provided any means of hope for him? Years, it seemed. All this time he had been getting a bit darker, he admitted. He wasn't stupid; he could see the physical evidence of Him whenever he looked in the mirror – that one little flash of orange in his eye.

But, back to the present, to Holly.

"Anyways, I was wondering if you'd like to get out for once. My friends are all coming, so it'd be nice to hang out in a larger group, for once. You know?"

A larger group..? Eh, he might have to rethink his answer, but...

_People aren't scary; it's loneliness that batters at you. Get out for once. Live a little!_

Inwardly, he sighed. He had always complained of never having anything to do. What harm could a party do, anyways? Knowing that it would lead to him to quite the uncomfortable evening, the boy nodded. For the greater good, this all was, really.

"I don't see why not."

"Oh, awesome!" She gave him a quick one-armed hug, and stole another orange and yellow-striped piece of candy before leaping back onto her broom and rushing through the sky. With baleful golden eyes, he watched her go.

* * *

Like so many stars, paper lanterns and other brilliantly colored lights were stringed across the narrow winding streets. Squares and intersections became stages for partiers and performers of all sorts; the water that flowed from the fountains was dyed a deep wine red, with strobe lights and lasers flashing from underneath the spray; bats and crows flew freely about, gracefully winging their way through throngs of decorations and people. From somewhere on some store roof, a band played and giant bubbles of varying colors drifted down into the streets.

Down among the people was one huge enthralling mass of costumed and masked actors. Some costumes were more elaborate than others; some partygoers could have scared off young children without the faintest scrap of a disguise. Despite the gruesome appearance of quite a few characters, however, sheer happiness and the thrill of a celebration ran rampant throughout the town.

Maybe that happiness was all that kept the darker, truer, forces of All Hallows Eve from appearing. Even costumes and masks, those that were viewed as childish or harmless traditions of Halloween, had once served a purpose; it was said that when the devils and ghosts roamed the earth on this day, they would become confused, mistake you for one of their own, and your soul wouldn't be sucked away to the realm of the dead with them.

As he calmly sipped some of the hot apple cider, Touya realized that the only harmful spirits here were cheap beer. Also, the loud music hurt his sensitive ears, and those godforsaken bubbles were plain annoying as well. Normally, if he had a choice, he would have found somewhere a bit less hectic to enjoy tonight, but...

"Well, that's where you've been sulking all this time! I never quite pictured you as one to enjoy a drink."

The ice master turned to the speaker, cider still in hand. "I'm not. But it does do a good job of dulling the senses."

Yukimi sighed, and tried her best not to play with the collar of the rather extravagant kimono she wore as a costume. A geisha... whose idea had it been for her to be a geisha for Halloween? Oh, wait - she paused and mentally backtracked - hers.

To tell the truth, it was a rather nice bash, and she could sense from Touya's mostly concealed aura that he was enjoying it much more than he claimed he was. He always seemed to put on this act: to play the pessimist. Why, she couldn't fathom. A way to keep his own hopes from being crushed, she guessed. In either case, it was just as smooth and unthawed of a lie to keep her wondering; as long as she had lived with him the moments he let down his guard were rare.

At one time, she had looked at his eyes, empty of any pupil, and pondered just what had closed him off and guided him down the path to his current self. Always so rigid, quiet but unrelenting, controlled... a medley of traits that could easily confuse her.

"In any case, are you enjoying yourself?" The question snapped Yukimi out of her reverie, and she smiled. "Of course. It would be nicer to have a buddy to party with, though."

Touya shrugged the hint off, turning back to the stall. "I think Chuu might be willing to dance some, if he's not too out of it."

"If you think I'm going dancing with that drunkard, you have another thing coming." Yukimi playfully poked Touya's shoulder, but the ice master only shrugged. "I suppose you're just out of luck, then." There was a rough tugging on his arm, and the ice master soon found himself being hauled away from the makeshift saloon and into the teeming mass of varied rabble, his cider left behind on the countertop. The noise increased a hundredfold, and colored lights assaulted his eyes.

"Geisha aren't supposed to be this rough," he muttered, and Yukimi seemed to not care at the comment. One glare from her, and he sighed, making a show of taking her hand and leading her the rest of the way into the crowd, in hopes of finding a spot where they wouldn't be crushed to death while they danced.

* * *

He grumbled something incoherently, and shifted his weight among the tree branches. They had brought him to this horrible place. No, he had to correct himself: they had _physically dragged_ him, against his will, to this event. A party, they had said.

He hated parties.

"Maaaaaaa!" Mara happily chirruped and unfurled her over-sized wings, her head swaying up and down on the end of her long neck; tiny claws clung onto his hair, and the tiny dragon carefully balanced so as not to tear the roots from his scalp. Hiei could feel her center of balance always moving, as the dragonling constantly took in her new surroundings. The city and people weren't new, per say - the fire youkai had brought his draconic cling-on with him down here on many an occasion - but the unusual decoration and costumes were enough to send her little mind reeling.

From his gloom, Hiei managed at least a small half-smile. At least one of them was happy tonight.

The mysterious and dark mood he had no doubt been casting over the tree and part of the street was suddenly shattered when the snow-white dragon that had nestled in on his head suddenly leapt forwards, wings flapping and claws still clutching onto his hair, to catch one of the gigantic bubbles that lazily drifted downwards. Said bubble lazed on down, and the demon swore loud enough for many a head to turn and chuckle.

Laughter - that was the last straw. With a harrumph, he gave a forceful retreat into the safety of the foliage, where Mara squeaked and clung on for dear life, forgetting the bubbles as her surrogate "mother" leapt into the air in search of another post.

The fox chuckled as Hiei leapt from one tree to another. He hadn't seen what had happened to the point, but he suspected it had something to do with Mara's fascination of the oversized bubbles floating over the crowd. How many times he had told his fire demon companion to play with Mara, he couldn't count. Suffice to say, it was fair payback for Hiei's unrelenting battles of pride that kept him from breaking down and playing with his young charge.

"Oi, fox boy, wake up!" Yusuke waved a hand in front of Kurama's face, and the redhead shifted his attention from the patches of star-spotted sky to the crowds surrounding him and his friends. "Ah, sorry. I just saw Hiei up above us, and he isn't too happy."

It had all been the girls' idea to go to the citywide celebrations during Halloween. Besides having a good time, however, he always kept a fragment of his mind keep an eye out for any signs of trouble. All Hallows Eve... when the dead walked the earth. To say that there wouldn't be any complications to the night was a mere hope.

Lyra's blue eyes widened, and wrapped her gauzy shawl tighter around her shoulders; the girl had dressed up as a sea spirit, which was more than fitting to her abilities. "Maybe we shouldn't have forced Hiei to come?"

"Oh, no, no. Mingling with civilization is good for him, in the end."

"If you're really sure..." She toyed with the sea green ribbon choker about her neck, but grabbed her younger sister's sleeve just in time to keep Lark from wandering off. Said younger sister grimaced, and carefully plucked Lyra's fingers off of her jacket.

"I saw a friend of mine over yonder."

"I'd still rather prefer it if we kept close. You never know what could happen in a gathering as big as this."

Lark looked over the costumed crowd, and waved hello to a pair of cross dressing young men, calling them by name and, for the most part, ignoring her sister. "Oh, come on, Lyra. We live near and know most of the people here." A girl with an impossibly large hot pink Mohawk and the entirety of her face pierced started to make small talk with the younger Admarant sister. Yusuke and Kuwabara sweatdropped, while Lyra murmured, "That's small comfort."

Kurama chuckled at the scene, but, as usual, his face was merely a mask for the thoughts racing through his mind. If greater caution had been taken earlier, then the crowd that surrounded them on all sides would have been their only worry. With that one painting in his possession, Givanni had turned from an irritating (but weak) obstacle to someone they would be wise to be wary of.

"Hey, have you seen Holly around? She ran off nearly a half hour ago."

Speaking of someone to be wary of...

Kurama made a quick scan of the crowd surrounding them, and shook his head to Hanabi. "She might be airborne, I'm afraid."

Hanabi sighed and ran a hand through his white hair. "I should have kept a better eye on her, anyways. But thanks for the help."

"Help? Well, if you're looking for Holly, I heard she went over to the piers. She said that Kyuro wanted to stop by there, for whatever reason." The speaker clapped one hand on Kurama's shoulder, and proceeded to try and lure the fox a bit away from the group. "Uh, if you don't mind, we kinda need to move along..."

"Oh, of course, Rogerik. Sorry to bother you guys." The smaller teen ducked into the crowd, and was lost in the blink of an eye.

Within seconds, the fox found himself behind a caramel apple stand, the blond thief leaning against a makeshift wall of milk crates. When the psychic didn't make the first move, he calmly asked, "What's wrong?"

"We should get out of here." Rogerik's voice was strained, his gray-green eyes unfocused. Kurama crossed his arms, perplexed at the sudden change in his evening plans.

"Any reason why..?"

"There's trouble heading our way. Koenma left me a voice mail telling us to keep away from any large gatherings of people, and, well." Rogerik waved a hand at the mass outside. "He heard that Givanni might make a move tonight, it being Halloween and all. It would be easier to deal with it if there aren't civilians in the way."

A message from Koenma... perplexing. So that had been why the thief had excused himself just twenty minutes before. The junior lord of Spirit World had made a good point, however. A group this big could just as easily panic as it could party; although, if anything happened, he was just as fearful that some drunken "innocents" would attack them instead of whatever the former headmaster had in surprise.

"I take it you aren't telling the others about this, then?" A silent shake of the head as a reply, and the fox let a mirthful laugh escape him. "Yusuke won't be too happy about that."

"I'm hoping that it blows over, and no one will have to know."

"But better safe than sorry, eh?"

A wry grin for Rogerik, which seemed sadly misplaced by the bags under the young man's eyes. "Yeah." Kurama nodded in understanding. The friends he had come with were dear to him. He would protect them if necessary, but he hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

The back door of the caramel apple stand opened up, bathing the two students in harsh white light. Both blinked owlishly as a heavyset ogre-like demon hollered out at them.

"'Ey, you punks, go find yerselves somewhere else to plot! This alley is property of my stall, and I don't like trespassers."

Youki flared about the stall-owner's form, and both thieves scurried out from the alley, spouting forth apologies as the fountains did water.

* * *

Compared to the rest of the city, the piers were fairly quiet.

A saxophone shrieked off-key, and Hanabi winced. Perhaps he should rephrase that last bit.

Besides the boats moored in, all decorated and place of residence to many a stay-at-home Halloween fan, and the makeshift stage set up at the opposite end, it was fairly quiet. Maybe if the saxophone player in the skaa band was better, the audience wouldn't have been so rowdy and the night would be even quieter.

The waves rolled gently, lapping against the pier supports. Gulls either bobbed up and down with the ocean current, or stood post on the tops of streetlights and rooftops of ocean view apartments. No one wandered the darker upper side of the pier, and Hanabi turned golden eyes to the equally hued harvest moon. Out here, away from all the bodies, it was chilly, and he was glad he had worn his jacket. He stuffed his hands into the pockets, heard the crinkling of plastic, and pulled out the half-finished baggie of candy corn.

"Care to share?" A bodiless voice asked. Hanabi looked around, confused, until green eyes opened and the tiny speaker yawned. It took a moment for him to place the name with the cat, as the feline arched his back, sat down, and tucked his tail about himself (all while balancing on the pier railing), but the voice made something inside his mind click.

"What, are you deaf? I would like some candy corn," Kyuro asked, sharply. Hanabi glanced at the package of aforementioned sweets in his hand, blushed, and held out the baggie for Holly's familiar. While the talking kitten rooted about in the bag and scooped himself out some candy kernels, the white-haired teen wondered why Kyuro was wandering around without the witch.

"Hey, do you know where Holly is?" It was certain that Kyuro would know; Holly was only followed by the cat 24/7. Kyuro gnawed on a piece of candy, his jaws working furiously as the sugary substance stuck to his gum and pearly whites, but managed to mumble out something. "I dunnomph... Agh. Sticky," He swallowed the food down and pawed around in the bag a bit more. "She said she was meeting someone, but she took her broom. Doubt you'll find her here."

"Really..."

"Uh-huh..." More chewing of the candy corn from the cat, and Hanabi raised an eyebrow. Hang out with her friends, his foot; for all he knew, she was just passing the time on some lonely rooftop, looking at the moon with... Jin.

"You okay, kiddo?" The cat tilted his head at Hanabi, and the teenage boy blinked in surprise. The low growl in his throat petered out, and he mentally panicked a bit. Was He getting even more of a hold?

With a sigh, Kyuro sat down and began washing his paws and face, licking his lips. "Alright, I lied – a bit. She went up to some rooftop... nearby." The last remark was a mumble, but Hanabi caught it.

A rooftop... Jin... geez. He had hit it on the spot, likely.

"How nearby?" He noticed the edge to his voice, and could almost see Him smirking in satisfaction. All this time, He had really tried to get him upset... this time, it didn't even take His nagging or quiet whispers into his subconscious.

Hanabi supposed that wasn't the best of signs, but at the moment, he could care less.

Yellow eyes searched the rooftops, and there - a silhouette against the muted golden glow of a lamp, which was still lit from the window of a nearby apartment. A female figure with a broom propped up against the wall of the building, and the poofy hair and elven ears of the wind master. And, with the roaring rush that filled his ears, the supposed peace with Jin was swept from his mind.

**Let me come out... I can help.**

Fine, he would. He didn't care... make everyone disappear, make him disappear.

Make this night disappear.

* * *

Even as he stepped out onto the roof, he knew it was too late to stop. Things had been set into motion, there was no way he could intervene and save everyone now.

It really should have upset him more; well, it would have years ago, maybe. He had learned since then: you take what you can, earn your keep, and move on. One couldn't always be a hero. Not like others thought of him as one, but still.

He chuckled slightly. Hero or villain? It was a fine line too easily crossed. He supposed that tonight, he could play hero for a bit. Keep the wall between the living and the dead sturdier than it was supposed to be on this night, disrupt the growing energy as much as possible, put an end to a supposed all-powerful weapon… Nothing much, really - just the usual.

Ah, now he could see the cause of his problems. Following the energy hadn't taken much; two distinct powers, each on opposite sides of the infamous extreme-left-and-right meter, all poured into one fragile human frame. Over time, however, such warring powers would change whatever was human in the boy to... well, he didn't rightly know. Such a case he had never seen before. Now wasn't the time for a thorough inspection of this catalyst, though; he had work to do.

While he chanted an incantation, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings , he noticed the shape of the target of the boy's seething anger.

Teenagers... he almost detested the fact he had once been among them. So emotional, they were. If the white-haired boy below him had controlled some of the powers of that pesky demon inside of him, he could have overheard the girl and youkai on the roof and this whole mess could have been avoided.

Oh well... nothing to be done about it now.

* * *

The sky was turning red.

In all three-hundred-plus years of his life, in makai and ningenkai, even he had never seen it this color. A gentle soothing umber, yes; but now darkness clouded the air, and the stars were slowly but surely fading from view. While they traveled up the street, away from the majority of noisemaking, a chill ran up his spine.

"This certainly doesn't bode well," he murmured, green eyes turning to an expanse the color of dried blood. Lyra joined his gaze, and Yusuke swore under his breath. No, this didn't look good at all. Even the once unshakable partiers had looked up, noticed the unusual sky above them, and were quickly dispersing. A few foolhardy idiots stayed out in the streets, but for the most part, stalls closed their shutters and citizens quickly made their way to some sort of shelter. They scurried through the streets, like mice looking for a hole, headed for home.

"Figures the warning would be too late." Kurama heard the thief clearly, although he was certain that the others weren't paying attention. So far, all had been accounted for; Hiei was most likely moving his dragonling to a safer locale (perhaps teleporting her back home) and Jin was perfectly capable of defending himself.

Right about now, he pitied anyone who was stuck outside for much longer. Nothing good came of a bleeding sky.

* * *

**Hanabi, you want them gone, right?**

Yeah, yeah he did. End it. That's all.

**Are you willing to help?**

Hadn't he said so? Of course he did...

**Then let everything go. I'll take care of it all.**

He vaguely remembered hearing something along those lines last spring, when he had been accepted into this messed-up school. He had been the headmaster, and was particularly stern about the fact that Hanabi should go – No, that he _must_ go.

Somewhere along the lines, he didn't remember meeting that headmaster, Givanni, again.

**Don't be afraid of what I'm about to do. You panic, and it all collapses. This type of stuff takes serious effort here, kiddo.**

It almost seemed as if He was worried about him. It couldn't be true, just couldn't be; in all of the twelve or so years since He had first taken residence inside his head, there hadn't been anything more than sneers and constant jeering.

Suddenly, it was if a ton of bricks had been dropped upon his shoulders; torture to stand, torture to breathe... And They were nowhere within the reaches of his mind. Freedom, at last...

And solitude. Lonely, aching, solitude.

He almost panicked at that moment, when he felt nothing from the Two, but remembering His instructions, kept still and composed. He even managed to keep standing.

**Hope you can ... can take it...all...**

Him. But He was tired, beyond recognition. Where He had once been powerful and always lurking about everywhere in his head, He was now about ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hanabi had never known Him to rest.

His mind burned, the ground seemed to dissolve and turn into mush below his feet. Cobblestone gave way under some enormous chasm of energy. But, whatever was crushing stone seemed to keep him on his feet. Through all the searing pain, through the gravity that kept him tied to the wrecked earth, he somehow opened his eyes and took it all in. This was power... pure, unleashed energy.

So how come it was leaving him so quickly? He had promised power enough to change it all.

More seemed to leave him than the meager pool he had began with. It took shape; indistinguishable, at best. He might have been able to make it out if he wasn't currently feeling his eyelids drop, his vision weaken and become blurry.

If he had stayed awake, he would have seen the monster he had created.

* * *

Red... dried blood. Rust. Stillness. Death.

And then, it came. A mess of greasy gray fur and decaying rope. Shackles and bindings. Horns sprouted from the skull of a goat-like head, but all that it reminded him of was a centaur. Some strange, deranged centaur wearing the skin of a goat. Cloven hooves struck the rooftop tiles, and it towered above him.

But then the fur had split open, along the belly of the upright torso; not entrails spilled from the seamless wound. No blood. Just a pair of bony arms with bloodless gray palms and spindly fingers. The skin had peeled away in places, mostly where the bones showed through; there was only a strip of connecting the skin of the hands with that of the arm – all of its wrist was bone and brownish-black flesh.

And the smell... decaying meat. That smell alone had been so effective in its assault, he hadn't even had the time to retaliate. No time to protect her.

And she had been snatched away by those rotted hands, nearly pulled back under the goat-hide cloak as whatever it was had sprinted away. The clouds rippled and warped, and then it had disappeared, and she along with it.

While the sky slowly returned to normal, and he slowly regained the use of his brain, Jin continued to stare at the night sky where the beast had vanished.

And the witch with it.

* * *

. And Holly is :gasp: kidnapped! And Hanabi, weeelll... :stares at Hanabi's body and pokes it with a stick: ...he's not doing to good. What has our poor Hanabi-kun done..?

Oh, yes, I have been slacking in Wheel of Torture. I know this. So, to make up for it, I'll do a quick little Q A thingy for you guys... Well, I won't. He will. :jerks head at Rogerik:

Rogerik-;; I didn't want to do this, you know...

Now, folks, stuck on the plot? Lost? Trying to remember who's who? Need some personal advice? Turn to "Ask Rogerik!"

Rogerik: Or ask advice from someone who cares.

Oh, but he does care! Don't you, Rogerik:nudgenudge:

Rogerik: ... Why not ask Yusuke?

Because Yusuke is... Yusuke. -.- No other words for it, really.

Rogerik:grumbles, but logs on computer: Okay, make this job quick and painless for me, folks.

That means to dig out any question you have, even if it really sounds quite stupid.

Rogerik:eye twitches: And review or the writer will make me do this again.


	14. Waiting for a wind

Quote: "Fear me, for I am a samurai – of balls!" –Corinne (:shakes head: poor, poor Corinne...)

KKC: Yay! Two questions for "Ask Rogerik!"

Rogerik:stares at reviews and blanches: Yes, just drag my personal life into this...

KKC:pokes thief with sharp pointy stick: Just answer them.

Rogerik:sighs: Okay... hrm... which one first? Cripes... :ponders, then picks one: Okay, to Ciardra. I didn't get pummeled – as long as I did what they wanted. I don't like pain.

KKC: Because he's a wuss.

Rogerik:eye twitches-And I don't like fighting...

KKC: Because he's a coward.

Rogerik:whaps KKC over the head: So it was smarter to just let them be higher than me in the hierarchy. Besides, demons are much stronger than humans are –

KKC: And can cause more pain.

Rogerik:massages bridge of nose: For once, you said something right... So that's why I let Yusuke beat the crap out of 'em; now don't tell that idiot I'm just using him or I'm a goner. :smiles... evilly:

KKC:looks over Rogerik's shoulder: Okay, onto the next one, blondie.

Rogerik:reads review and shudders: Do I have to..?

KKC:glares: YES.

Rogerik:cringes and stares at review: Hrm... how do I word this..:mumbles: Better make it good or she'll kill me...

KKC: Rogeriiik...

Rogerik: Okay, here's the thick of the relationship between me and Lark. :sighs: We're friends.

KKC: Liar.

Rogerik: Okay, so we're roommates.

KKC: Embyr-chan won't be happy with that answer, you know.

Rogerik . It's my life.

KKC: You're in denial.

Rogerik: Damn… :sweatdrops: Fine; our relationship is in pending.

KKC:sweatdrops: Come on, even you don't believe that one. Spit it out!

Rogerik: If I do, the plot goes down the drain. :smirks:

KKC:palms forehead: Crap! Sorry, reviewer-peoples...

* * *

The door softly clicked shut, and he stepped away, feet dragging slightly over the carpeted floor. Green eyes blearily looked over the others, all sprawled somewhere in the living room or adjoining kitchen.

"Is he any better?"

Kurama turned to Lyra, who was curled up in his armchair. The fox had to admire her; her friend kidnapped by a monster, yet she hadn't broken down – instead helping where she could. Comparing it to the situation last June, one could call it a definite improvement.

He tried to give her a smile, but failed horribly. "Until he wakes up, he's fine."

Awkward silence was shared all around. Lark, unusually withdrawn, traced her finger along the side of the goldfish tank, watching the carnivorous fish attempt to bite her through the clear plastic; Kuwabara rubbed Bones' skull, nearly chewing on his own nails. Hiei moodily glowered from the corner, and Erica was busy talking over something on the phone – the fox couldn't make out her exact words, but could guess the topic well enough. A call to Holly's grandmother, perhaps? Or to tell the office to mark the witch absent?

No... Not absent. He wouldn't even try to be optimistic at this point in time. She was likely dead by now.

"Agh... this is total and complete _crap_!" Yusuke suddenly punched the carpeted floor, staring at the fireplace as if his very gaze would set it up in flames. "There was no warning. One minute, everyone's out partying, and the next..."

"It all turns to hell." The spirit detective blinked, a bit taken surprise by Hiei's blunt comment, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. "Yeah, hell fits it."

There was a rapid scratching from the door, loud enough for Mara's eyes to nearly flutter open as she dozed upon Hiei's shoulder. The muscles of her wings twitched, her tail curled ever so slightly tighter around the demon's neck, and the fire youkai was standing at the front door. The scratching noises increased until, with an obvious sneer upon his face, Hiei opened the door and a minute black figure trotted in. Green eyes blinked as the cat looked wildly about the room; everyone was quiet.

The cat's gaze focused upon Yusuke, who sat closest to the feline, and suddenly the black creature leapt into the air, only to land clutched onto the spirit detective's chest. Yusuke yelped and fell backwards, trying to pry the kitten's claws out of his chest.

"Kyuro, you crazy little shit! Get off!"

"Where is she? Where's Holly!"

Yusuke had no luck disentangling himself from the witch's familiar, but Kurama helpfully aided him. While the fox unhooked tiny claws from his partner, Hiei smirked at the scene. Something like this always happened to shift the mood.

Then again, if they knew where the witch was, this would have been funnier.

"Cat, she's missing." The fire demon spoke plainly, arms crossed over his chest. As unguarded as he might have appeared, however, Kyuro knew it wasn't wise to attack the youkai. Instead, the cat reined in his anger as best as possible (allowing Kurama to fully separate him from Yusuke), and glared at Hiei as he limply dangled from Kurama's grasp.

"My witch, missing? How could you idiots let her just up and leave! She's my responsibility!"

"If I do so recall, you belong to her-"

"Hiei, let Kyuro calm down for a moment. He's probably the only one who can really help us," Lyra said, curling even deeper into the armchair. Although Kurama was rather busy restraining the small animal, he gave the girl a grateful look – which was quickly soured as sharp little fangs sank into his arm.

He would be even more grateful if he knew whether or not the centuries-old cat had all his shots.

* * *

"Well, it looks like you didn't get out in time." The voice came from the communicator propped up on the cliff wall steps. Fighting off the fall chill in his fleece-lined pilot's jacket, the thief merely glared at the unopposing slim device. Instead of a video, the junior kami's figure was replaced by a sky-blue geometric screensaver.

"We still screwed up – big time. Holly got captured."

"Ah... that provides a problem. Are you going to go look for her?"

Rogerik growled. Didn't the toddler have some paperwork to do, for once? Why was tonight the one night that Koenma had some free time...

"She's dead." He supposed he was trying to sound unaffected by the recent turn of developments, but Koenma heard the thief's voice crack a tiny bit. With a sigh, the junior lord rubbed his temples. Well, he supposed Rogerik would have seen this action had the thief bothered to charge the power coil earlier today; there was barely a strong enough charge to keep up an audio connection.

"Kyuro is still fairly sane; there may be hope, yet."

Rogerik considered simply shutting the compact-talker off before he got into any other messes; his bed seemed rather nice right now. With a grimace, he looked out over the ocean, water flowing over the rocky shore. "How do you figure that?" He asked, not really caring how the cat Kyuro was involved.

"After four-hundred years without harm to any of his charges, I doubt that the familiar could accept failure. He wasn't able to even when he was free."

Well, how nice. And all this was supposed to help how..? Reminiscing back to the days before Kyuro became a housecat didn't bring Holly back. With all that had happened, even if the witch was alive how could they track her down? That thing had disappeared into thin air – like a ghost.

And then it hit him; something that big and powerful had to find its energy somewhere, even when the barriers were weakened. There was no way some random monster would just skip through on a Halloween night and decide it wanted to steal a young girl on it's own free will. The energy costs were too high. So what had forced it to come..?

"Did I ever tell you about the legend of Castle Lain?" For such a horrible night, Koenma sure seemed cheerful. Rogerik furrowed his eyebrows at the communicator. "I don't feel like listening to a horror story right now. I'm already stuck in one."

Koenma seemed not to care, and prattled on. The thief groaned and buried his head in his arms. Why was the lord acting more like his blue-haired ferry girl? Rogerik glared at the communicator, then slammed the screen shut, enjoying the silence. A few waves crashed upon the rocks, but the sea was calm, and the gulls were gone. Ever since they had left the town, no birds had cried, no nocturnal animals had made their rounds. Even Koryu, who was unusually empathic to his "Miss Lyra", was missing.

He brushed blond hair out of his face, and grabbed the communicator, popping the power coil out and stuffing it in his pocket. If Koenma wanted to chat, he could call back later. Right now, all Rogerik wanted to do was go to bed. His footsteps dragged as he walked across the backyard garden; he was too tired to even grasp the fact that, because everyone else was home, there was no need for him to use the house key that he had dredged up from his jacket pocket.

With a roll of his eyes, he jammed the key back into his pocket and grasped the worn doorknob, twisting it and letting the door swing open of it's own accord. What greeted his eyes, however, was anything but the homey little living room he had been expecting.

The high-backed office chair swiveled around, and Rogerik, opposite the giant desk, just gaped at who was seated in it. The young man smirked, which was easy to tell even with the blue pacifier in his mouth, and brushed his brown hair out of his golden eyes.

"Considering you didn't feel like listening in the comfort of your own home, I had to make a detour. Castle Lain is important to this particular mission, and rightfully so."

Another groan, and Rogerik slumped to the floor of the immaculate office, thunking his head against the door behind him. Only Koenma would rearrange the physical plane to make sure the psychic would hear his little horror tale. Koenma's smirk faded, and the prince absently picked up his signature stamp, eyeing the blond across the room. _If that idiot even thinks he can sleep in the middle of my floor..!_

THWACK.

"Agh! Holy crap!" Rogerik seemed to spring to life, although the burst of energy was spent clutching his forehead. A tiny dribble of blood ran from the small cut, and he glared at the offending stamp, with its official mark of the young lord, from its spot on the floor not three feet away from him.

Koenma was not at all bothered by his employee's reaction, and leaned back while lacing his fingers together. "Are you ready to listen, yet?" The stamp was chucked back at him, and the brunette caught it expertly, then eyed Rogerik. The blond looked a bit perturbed; the psychic was amazingly patient and enduring, but after all of that night he was a bit frazzled. The prince thoughtfully chewed his pacifier. It was best to sum everything up quickly. No special effects this time.

"That monster and Castle Lain are closely linked; both originate from the same source."

Green-gray eyes blinked in confusion, but the blond was quickly piecing together some theories of his own along with what the Reikai lord had told him. That thing had to come from somewhere, and needed a lot of energy. It most likely came from that castle, he judged; now to find said castle.

"And if you will kindly backtrack to about two weeks ago, you will recall that source..."

"Eh, what?" How could he forget, really? Evil cuttlefish of doom and all that...

Koenma smirked once again as Rogerik's face blanched. It was amusing when young mortals found out about the not-so-pleasant things in life. Although it would be wrong to admit it, even he had laughed once or twice in his early years when a departed soul couldn't accept the fact that it was dead and had tried to go on and possess some other (sometimes inanimate) object. Of course, that was before the job had been handed over to him, but that was beside the point.

"The painting..." It was shockingly clear, now that he thought about it. Givanni had needed a ton of energy to power the cursed thing - as to be expected when changing one alternate reality to fit the current one. It had all been in a painting... one he was glad he hadn't glared to look at. Although, now he was a bit curious about the artwork's potency...

_No, stop it_. The voice went off in his head, and he recalled a conversation with Kurama from earlier that summer. That selfsame curiosity had killed even Youko in the end.

"What was that painter on..?" for some reason, he could imagine some twisted version of Picasso. That had been the guy that had cut off his ear, right? Not that he ever paid attention to whoever had made what he stole, unless they were alive enough to come after him for it.

From his desk, Koenma pulled out a small wooden box, tapping his fingers on the latch experimentally. "No, in all truth the man was rather sane and drug-free. He got his inspiration for the painting while visiting a nefariously haunted castle in the human world, and painted it during his stay. Unfortunately, although Castle Lain is supposed to be entire fictional, it and it's real-world counter-part are the one and the same."

"So what happened to the guy?" Rogerik was standing now, leaning against the doors as he did so. From behind the thick doors he could hear the hustle and bustle of the ogres and ferry girls on the other side.

Koenma opened the box, and took out a rusted chunk of metal, gingerly placing it upon his desk. He motioned for the teen to come closer and look for himself, and the thief did. What he thought was a piece of rusty trash, turned out to be a thin chain with a pendulum of sorts. He toyed with the engraved cover of the pendulum, and nearly jumped as it snapped open with an audible "twing". The inside face was cracked and dirty; there was a dirty reddish-brown smudge streaking across it, starting from the eight. Neither of the hands moved, and the minute hand had been twisted at an unusual angle.

"That watch is all that's left of him during an excavation of Lain's real-world counterpart."

He looked up at the prince's words, and then back down at the watch. Silence hung heavily about them, until he asked"So, what are our chances of getting her back.."

"I believe there is another who can provide a portal to Castle Lain." When Rogerik blinked at Koenma's words, the junior kami sighed. "Another entry to the castle, besides the painting, is available, you know. It's a bit of a stretch, but plausible."

"Thanks." He didn't know what to say, really. Here, the lord of the dead was sticking his neck out for the thief's friend, yet what did he have in return? Koenma seemed to notice this, and smiled. "Don't worry; I may still be in need of your services. Givanni hasn't stopped trying to locate artworks he can manipulate, so I'll contact you if need be."

The blond nodded, and went to drop the rusted pocket watch back into the wooden box it had been contained in earlier, but Koenma slammed the lid shut. "Take it. It'll come in handy - trust me." Rogerik stared at the watch, with it's twisted and shattered face, and placed it in his pocket.

"Hey, uh, hate to ask for more, but is there a way out of here"

Koenma flipped his seal between his fingers, smirked, and slammed it down on an inkpad on his desk. The thief felt the sickening sensation of his stomach floating above his body, and nearly choked out a scream before everything turned black.

* * *

Yusuke stared at the microwave clock, and angrily stabbed at his scrambled eggs. Eight-thirty in the morning, the night before still fresh in his mind, and here it seemed that the witch would hop down any moment. If she did, perhaps he could manage to pry Kyuro out of the window. All night long the familiar had sat on the sill, green eyes ever searching for another human.

The black cat had been told, repeatedly, that Holly wasn't coming back, but he sat there just the same. Nothing could make him move. Not even when Salvatore had alighted on the familiar's furry head.

And then there was Jin... the wind master had nearly lost it when Holly had been taken. If not for Kurama's sleeping drug, the youkai probably would already have snapped a few necks. Where the redhead was normally cheerful and nearly childish, all that had been replaced by a grim anger over the last twenty-four hours. Yusuke dreaded having Jin wake up later, but it wasn't as if he could sleep forever.

"Hey." Kuwabara walked into the kitchen, pulling a pop tart out of the pantry, and slumped down in a stool by the kitchen island. Following at his heels was the gaunt skeleton frame of Bones. The black-haired boy grunted, watching the bubbles on the top of his orange juice float in the cold liquid, and slowly scraped at the yellow-ish egg remains on his plate.

Kuwabara blinked, then slammed a fist down on the concave of Yusuke's unused spoon. The utensil flipped up, landing with a clatter on the shorter teen's dish, and Yusuke turned a one-eyed glare on his roommate.

"Well, now that you have my attention, what do you want"

"Just wanted to tell you that some ominous presence is lurking about. It might have something to do with Holly"

"Oh, will you shut up and drop the frickin' subject" Yusuke grabbed the dish off the table and nearly threw it into the kitchen sink. Bones jumped and hid underneath the table at the clatter; Kyuro still stared out the window, not even twitching a whisker. Neither of them spoke for a bit, and the quiet seemed eerie. Where was the morning commotion he usually hated when he needed it? The yelp of indignation that usually signaled a fight between Lark and Rogerik or the squawking of Salvatore would have been welcome right about now.

Suddenly, the windows rattled and a shrieking whistle was heard. Brown eyes widened, and Yusuke almost ducked right under the kitchen island counter, Kuwabara not far behind. An earthquake? No, wait - the floor was perfectly stable. There was a tug on his sleeve, and Yusuke glanced back at Kuwabara, who seemed about ready to have a heart attack.

"That ominous presence... I think this is it."

No time for a snappy comeback, as the door slammed open on its hinges, creating a good-sized dent in the wall before it fell to the floor, screws flying out of the frame and scattering about the floor. The whistling grew to a roar, and wind whipped about the room, chucking whatever wasn't bolted down into the tornado that had suddenly sprung up in the living room (for some reason unknown to them, Kyuro was still unaffected by all of this, and still sat, untouched, looking out the window).

Hesitantly lowering his arms from his vulnerable eyes, Yusuke looked out at the door, and his mouth nearly dropped open as a tall figure with flying red-brown hair stood in the doorway, green eyes alighted by fire.

"WHERE! WHERE IS MY BABY SISTER"

* * *

Ne... somebody's mad... . ;;

This chapter might have lasted longer, but I really couldn't think of a better place to make a break. Hey, it means that it's posted earlier, and the next segment will most likely be up by Sunday (I hope :crosses fingers:).

In the next chapter!

Between Jin and this new arrival, Kurama might not have enough sedatives for the both of them (or a powerful enough painkiller for the headache he's brewing).

Once a scapegoat, now a savior. Who could possibly know the second entry to Castle Lain?

Guilty as he is, will Hanabi be acquitted for his actions?


	15. And off we go?

Quote of the Week: "Winter is nature's way of saying, "up yours"." - Unknown

W00t! Everyone got the "figure's" identity right! Then again, it is very difficult to misplace Victoria, isn't it? A reason why he/she/shim is a personal favorite of mine.

Whenever I think of him, a picture of Isabella from Paradise Kiss keeps popping into my head...

* * *

They all made a lovely little racket upstairs. If his head wasn't so muddled up by... by _whatever_ it was he had taken the night before, he would have gone up already and hollered for them to be quiet.

"Holy..! Ack!"

"WHERE!"

Something crashed upstairs, and he groaned, then finally jerked the blankets from over his head. The room was dark - someone had hung a blanket of some sorts over the tiny high-up window. Pointed ears twitched, and he slowly looked over at the bed on the other side of the room. Rogerik was asleep, the blankets slowly rising and falling in time with his silent breaths.

He ruffled his red hair with one clawed hand and swung his feet onto the floor. For once, the sheets weren't all in a knot; when he passed out last night (for reasons unknown to him - he couldn't quite remember anything at the moment) it must've been pretty bad. Almost every night he shifted around in his sleep enough to turn the blankets and sheets into one knotted mess. One blue eye lazily saw the time on the computer desk clock, and he swayed uneasily on his feet.

What had happened last night..? He couldn't recall anything, and he had never woken up so woozy before in his life. Another bout of noisemaking, and he supposed that he might as well venture upstairs to see who was fighting. Usually Kurama or one of the two teachers would break it up, and he wondered where they were at the current time of day. Jin used the railing to steady himself as he trudged up the stairs and grabbed the door handle.

The door fell over, off it's hinges, all on it's own, and he blinked tired eyes at the sudden overload of sunlight. He heard the soft padding of footsteps and wasn't at all surprised to see Kurama coming down. The fox didn't even acknowledge Jin, but he supposed he could let it go. Right now, there was a rather violent scene going on in their kitchen.

"URAMESHIIII..." Wind whipped the hair of the speaker about their face, not like he could tell their gender. It seemed almost like a male voice, but it was slightly too high for it to be so; the speaker's back was turned, and whoever it was was wearing a long coat that, besides cutting down the wind chill, made their frame indiscernible. But the height, easily nearing six feet, cleared things up a little.

The glowing green eyes helped too, he had to admit. Jin had seen them focused upon himself many a time during the warmer summer season.

"May I ask what you are doing in this house, early on a Sunday morning?" Kurama had made his way down the stairs, and was now leaning against the railing stand, hands in the pockets of his pajama trousers. Jin twitched his left ear, as the figure that currently had Yusuke pinned between the wall and counter in the kitchen turned and focused glowing green on them.

"OH, SO _YOU'RE_ INVOLVED, TOO?" He didn't even have a moment to flinch as the person was suddenly vacant from Yusuke's side and had pinned the youkai to the wall. Manicured nails digging into his shoulders, Jin gave Kurama one last desperate plea of a look, and faced his attacker directly.

If he hadn't spent the moment over the Landon's house for the summer, the sight that greeted his eyes would have made him twist and squirm away.

"They" turned out to be a very upset Victoria Landon. Or Victor... whichever he preferred being called at the moment. Between the poorly-done cover up and men's business suit, Jin couldn't tell which alias the older sibling was at the moment. Whatever had happened, it must've been pretty bad to drag the normally exquisite dresser out in public while half-done.

"Tell me... what happened to her?" The insane screeching yell was gone, replaced by a calm and steady tone that frightened Jin more than Victoria's loud screaming. His reddish hair was pulled into a braid, but some loose wavy strands managed to tickle the youkai's nose; self-consciously, Jin tried to pull away from the upset man. Victoria was getting too close to comfort, and a wall prevented the wind master from escaping.

"Wha? Who are you talkin' about?" Jin managed to make out the half-sentences, but Kurama stiffened, hair literally bristling. The fox soon had an unyielding hand on the shoulder of Holly's brother, and managed to make Victoria loosen his grip from Jin's arms. Looking at the marks from the manicured nails with interest, the wind master rubbed his arm ruefully. He didn't know why Kurama was so inclined to save him, but he frankly didn't really care at the moment.

"Let go of me, Kurama. I want to know where my sister is."

It was as if the floodgates had opened as Victoria spoke those words to the fox. The world suddenly became clearer; the abandoned broom with a long crack running down the shaft of the handle leaning against the wall next to the front door, the unmoving black cat in the doorway, the sullen quiet of the household...

Last night... he could still hear the frightened, panicked scream as she was carried away by that monster; spindly fingers closing about her waist as the scent of rotting flesh cloaked the monster as fittingly as the matted goat-skin cover. Cracked and curved horns, giant cloven hooves with which the creature could have dashed out his brains without a thought. A bit of white hair moved about in the wind, as a breeze emptied the air of the pungent smell of death.

Hanabi had been the cause of all this. Damn the boy to hell.

Both redheads watched as Jin suddenly fell to his knees on the carpeted floor, his blue eyes empty and unseeing. From over the kitchen counter, Yusuke and Kuwabara poked their heads out. The black-haired boy took one look at the normally cheerful demon, and allowed his forehead to fall to the countertop with a thunk. "Crap," he moaned.

Victoria seemed a bit fazed by the recent events, but nonetheless knelt down and forcibly stood Jin up on his feet. The demon fell back against the wall, and the witch's older brother sweatdropped.

"Please, leave him be. It's still... sinking in, I'm afraid," Kurama muttered, an exasperated sigh at the edge of his voice. Victoria blinked his green eyes - eyes that didn't have the touch of hazel like his sister's. Then...

"Oh, Jin, darling! I'm so sorry! I. Didn't. _Know_!" Victoria grabbed the demon in a tight, lung-crushing embrace, and the three tantei noticed that Jin had gained a rather blue tint to his face. There was a coughing sound and the wind master was soon fighting off Holly's older sibling, while said tantei stared wide-eyed at his sudden recovery from the scarring memories of last night.

_Well, that definitely saves me the trouble of giving him more sleeping dregs... _Kurama rubbed his temples at this new development, and watched as Jin seemed to come alive right in front of him. He supposed that the process would have been quickened if the elf-eared demon received some oxygen, but it was a miracle in itself that Jin had snapped out of it already.

Taking too many sedatives, even if they were natural herbs he had plucked out of the garden instead of the chemicals that humans used on an everyday basis, were taxing on one's body. Even the fox himself avoided taking any medicine, if possible.

Therapy-hugging? Well, he doubted it would catch on, but it had to be better than steamed and mashed-up herbs.

As Jin finally wriggled free of Victoria's hug and winced at the aching pain that burned through his ribs, Kurama thought better of said therapy hugging and decided to leave the wonders of modern medicine to the professionals. The redheaded, elf-eared youkai gulped in large breaths of the precious air that was now allowed him, and tried to pull himself up off the floor.

"Yeah, Holly, I don' know what happened to her," Jin quickly raised one hand to fend off Victoria as the long-haired man seemed to grow a half foot in height within the span of those words, and Yusuke and Kuwabara scurried out of hiding to latch onto Victoria's arms. It wouldn't do any good to have the older Landon sibling attack Jin, bring him back to his senses, and just as quickly knock him out of them.

"'Ey, 'ey, calm down." The vicious little breeze that had been tugging on the ends of everyone's hair died down for a moment, and Victoria calmly broke free of the two punks' grasp. "Well, speak."

"There's this one guy who prob'ly knows exactly what happened-"

"I do," the voice came from the doorway to the basement next to Jin, and Yusuke snorted. "You? What, did the voice of God carry down and tell you the answer while you were moping out back last night?" The comment was scathing, and Rogerik could clearly realize that the spirit detective was a bit closer to anger than just a short fuse would allow.

But having a pissed-off wind-controller break into your house could do that. Ya know?

The thief sighed, leaned in the doorframe, and just as suddenly recoiled back. A screw stuck out from the doorframe, from where the hinges had been ripped out; reminders as to why he didn't get on anyone's bad side at this school. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his blond hair. "Close enough. Koenma has a theory about what happened."

Victoria paled, and Kuwabara looked fairly satisfied at the answer, ready to leave it at that. But, no, Yusuke wouldn't leave it at that. "Sure, get pacifier-breath involved," the black-haired teen huffed. Kurama merely shook his head, and waved a hand at Yusuke. "Calm down, Yusuke. Any help is welcome."

Rogerik took a deep breath. He really wished that the others were awake at this time of the morning; it would save him the breath when he had to explain the junior kami's plan. But, really, he had no clue how the two sisters were dealing with it, and Hiei (being, well, Hiei) was probably off sulking in a tree somewhere. Making a mental note to himself to check on Lark later on, he started his long-winded summary.

* * *

He stood outside, one hand nearly touching the doorknob. He wished he could just go inside, but how would they react to his sudden reappearance? A slow-mo family sitcom welcome, drenched in the heart-wrenching melodies of John Williams music and falling cherry blossom petals, welcome was far off for the likes of himself.

No, he rather more suspected them to come after him with pitchforks and torches.

The smooth, coppery surface of the little artificial-looking creature perched on his shoulder bumped into his ear, and he felt the brought-to-life metal hum. If he could speak golem, he was fairly sure that his creation (originally brought to life for the purpose of grading papers) was telling him to get his ass in gear and just open the damn door.

So he did.

The door opened. Not in the classic easy swing that many doors opened in, but instead falling to the floor with a muffled thud. As he stared at the group of young adults inside the living room (and they just stared back, looking like a herd of deer stranded in the middle of a busy intersection) he vaguely noticed that the hinges on the door were missing. He sat there, lost for words, wishing that his leather jacket was a trench coat; a dramatic, coat-flapping wind would at least have given him a reason for knocking the door down and standing on the front steps, staring silently like some idiot faced with the jellyfish tank at the aquarium.

Sadly, he had no such wind. He awkwardly stepped over the door, picked it up, and settled it back on the doorframe as best he could. Seeing that the dismantled door wouldn't budge (unless another fool tried to open it), he turned back to the group (who were still gaping) and cleared his throat. "Ahem, uh... er..."

The words died in his throat, and he mentally smacked himself. Of all the times, why did he have to go dumb now? Wasn't Alzheimer's supposed to set in after the tender age of forty-something?

"M-Michealangelo..?" Kuwabara pointed dumbly at his former teacher, and Yusuke nodded in answer. The necromancer nearly let out a sigh of relief. Finally, someone who wasn't going to go on forever with the various titles he had been granted. Laird was enough for him; one village he had traveled to in the past had been so "gracious" as to add a whole string.

It had gone somewhere along the lines of "All-Seeing One of Luck and Prosperity, King of the Beloved Deceased, He Who Makes Blood Fall Like Rain... etc., etc..." All he knew for sure of the title was that it had been too bloody long for his liking. Although, anything beat his childhood nickname "Runs with Scissors".

But, back to the present. He had a portal to the past to open, bewildered teenagers to guide, a witch to rescue, a rendezvous with Koenma, and test papers to grade. First off, to make sure that he didn't have to retell the exposition. "Rogerik, you caught them all up, right?" He waved a hand at "them" and the thief nodded. "Uh, yeah..."

"Good." He nodded and rubbed his hands together, the golem on his shoulder purring at the reiki gathering in his palms. "The second passage to castle Lath is actually very easy to get to - it's just all a matter of how patient you are."

From among "them" he heard Yusuke snort. "We're short on patience, old man." Michealangelo forced himself not to twitch at the comment; he had been called worse, after all. And nothing quite said revenge like finding a severed head in one's bed sheets - with the body climbing into bed to take it back.

"You'll have to wait, or you'll end up being sent to Limbo."

Victoria blinked, then smiled. "Oh, I love that game!" The cross-dresser cringed at the varied looks he got, and shrugged. "Bad timing for a joke, I take it?" By the looks Victoria got from the assembled roommates (except for Kurama, who was trying to focus on the complex motions the Laird was doing with his hands), he had hit it on the nail. The redheaded human sighed, and gazed over at Kyuro, who was, as always, staring out the window. If he didn't know better, he'd think that the cat was a stuffed toy. Either that, or the familiar's eyes had dried to dust and been blown away.

A twinge of jealousy and guilt washed over the older brother. Kyuro had never been his familiar; by the time he had been old enough to even begin to gain a glimmer of his influence with wind, Holly had been born. And, by tradition, the family familiar was passed onto the newest witch. Girls were witches; boys weren't first in line for the familiar or title, and many witch families had a matriarch as head of family. Maybe that feeling of unfairness, as he had watched Kyuro carefully, if snidely, mind the younger Holly as she wandered about as a toddler, had carried through the years and struck the younger girl down now.

So he had been a bit more distant from Holly than he wished when they were younger. One day, his father had come home, caught him in the skirt and blouse he had hidden (with a stuffed bra and half-done make-up, as well) in his closet, and promptly kicked him out of the house. Victoria (or then, Victor) had run to his grandmother's, and Holly had followed. Supporting, mad as hell at dear old dad, and lugging all their stuff with them. Since that scarring event a good five or so years ago, they had been inseparable. Even the jealousy of not having a familiar had disappeared.

"Hey, you. Snap out of it." Victoria jumped at the Laird's voice, and noticed that the symbol the necromancer was trying to write in the air was oddly warped. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it for a few minutes. A bad mental wavelength can screw this thing over and I'd have to do the entire damn thing over again..." The rest of whatever the man said faded off into a mumble, as the symbol shuddered, then burst into life. The Laird wryly smiled, and barked over at Rogerik. "Hey, did Koenma give you anything?"

The thief shook his head no. "Nah. Unless you count a colossal pain in the a-"

"Stop with the attitude and just hand over whatever that "colossal pain in the ass" gave you."

The blond looked like he had been physically stricken, but quickly produced a rusted piece of scrap metal from his pants pocket. Kurama raised an eyebrow at the relic that the psychic produced, and tried to block out Youko's voice from within his head. Already, the spirit fox of the past was sniffing out the scent of silver, and was using the more advanced smarts that his current form, Shuichi, to calculate how much it would sell for if he pulled off a quick restoration. Kurama one time had wondered why Youko even bothered dealing with money, for it had little to no value in Makai and the fox seemed to be disinterested in the paper bills.

Yes, a paradise for Youko paid out in mounds of newly polished yen pieces and random other bits of change.

_**...I'm above that, you know.**_

_Oh, I'm sure, Youko. I'm sure._

But the rusted watch was placed in front of Michealangelo (who had spent a good ten seconds barking at the boy specific instructions. Apparently, it had to be in the exact mathematical center of the reiki-outlined circles on the floor in front of the necromancer), and the "gift" from Koenma glowed an eerie white as the symbol floating in the air burned itself onto the watch's flip-open lid.

All was quiet, and the Laird picked up the watch, rubbing the still-warm lid with his thumb. "Good, the spell isn't as deteriorated as I had thought." He looked over the group with dark brown, nearly black, eyes, and let the watch dangle from it's chain before dropping it in Rogerik's hand. "You, take good care of that. It acts as a catalyst for the entry to the castle, and makes leaving a hell of a lot easier."

The thief stared wordlessly at the watch, and bowed his head to the necromancer. "Of course."

"So, how long you wanna wait before we leave?" Yusuke casually asked. To tell the truth, he didn't want to wait any more; but they would need some basic supplies - food, water, and most likely a first aid kit of some sort - before Kurama or Lyre would even let them step out the door. And then there was the problem of telling Rachel and Erica where they had gone.

Kurama looked over at the microwave clock in the kitchen, and then glanced back upstairs. "I'd suggest we leave in an hour or two. It'd give the girls time to wake up and get caught up, and leave time for some packing."

"Why not now?" The cat in the windowsill had been quiet for so long, it made the tantei jump a little when they heard the voice, now. Kyuro turned away from his constant watch, and glared at them with narrowed green eyes. "Two hours is too long. It'd be a hassle, and we can summarize to the sisters later. Same with permission from Rachel. Besides, our friend here," the cat jerked his head at the middle-aged man now standing a bit out-of-place in the living room, "has a strict schedule, no?"

"My plans are none of your concern. I was simply told to watch things while you left to find Holly." Michealangelo seemed to speak this stiffly, with as little emotion as possible, and it worked fairly well. Well enough to make Victoria bristle a little at the sudden tone of voice. "I can oversee this rescue perfectly fine," the cross dresser replied, and half the group (Jin included) blinked in befuddlement at the sudden announcement. Victoria, lead a rescue mission? That was just asking for trouble...

But it _was_ his sister, so the wind master supposed it was only fair. In his own spastic way, Victoria had been more than tolerant of entire affair. Jin knew well enough that the choking he had been put through earlier was nothing compared to what the older brother could really do - reiki or no.

"An hour." The fox broke in, and Kyuro reluctantly nodded. "Very well. Not one minute less." With a swish of his tail, the cat disappeared to wander about the rest of the house. Most likely, he was off to rouse Lark and Lyra from their slumber. Michealangelo watched the cat go, and sighed. "I'm surprised he let you take control of this all." The necromancer took one last inventory of the living room, and quickly scuffed out the last remnants of the spell circles (the energy quickly fading and the symbols disappearing from the carpet) with his boot, and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Well, you heard the cat. We both have little time to chat, and I have some other things to oversee at the moment. If you need to talk, ask Bones; the dog should be able to connect to this little guy here," the necromancer jabbed a thumb in the direction of the little golem perched upon his shoulder, "no problem."

Once again, the door was moved from its frame, and the middle-aged man went to step out of the house, but turned back to the living room. "Oh, Rogerik."

"Yeah?"

"Check your communicator. I believe Koenma had something private to talk to you about."

"Uh, okay..." The blond shrugged, and Yusuke gave the laird a hearty glare. "And what does wonder-baby want with him that I can't take care of?"

Michealangelo waved a hand lazily over his shoulder and walked out the door. "It requires thinking." Yusuke was about to lunge forwards at the comment, but Kuwabara grabbed his arms, sweatdropping as he did so. "Well, at least someone's felling like their old self."

* * *

Jin grabbed his bag. It was small, considering he didn't know how long they'd be out in the castle. But, considering it was only just one castle and the load would be split up between the group of them, he only tossed in an extra set of clothes and some travel-friendly foods. Lifting it with one hand, he found the pack to be pitifully light, but shrugged it off. Less work for him, and he could move faster.

Rogerik had connected to Koenma through his communicator, as promised, but the wind master didn't know where the thief had holed himself up for the "private connection". He was wary of the glowering green eyes of Kyuro, though, as the cat prowled throughout the house, snapping out at anyone who seemed to be a bit slow. Currently, this was the familiar's third visit to the basement bedroom.

Jin swung the bag onto his shoulder and grabbed a fleece-lined autumn coat. "Any reason why you're just hanging around here?"

The cat sniffed, and stretched, the tiny black body arching and contorting. "There's someone outside for you. He's rather... ashamed. For good reason, too." The last bit was growled out, and green eyes flashed dangerously.

"Gee, I wonder who." Jin drawled, but trudged up the stairs without complaint. Sure enough, sitting on the front steps was a familiar white-haired head. Jin dumped his bag right behind Hanabi, and the boy spun around, trying to get to his feet at the same time. What resulted was a near spill from the other teen, and recovery from his stumble.

"Any reason you're here?" Jin had no patience for the golden-eyed boy at this time, and he doubted he ever would again. Although not directly, this little bugger was responsible for Holly's kidnapping.

"Ah, I-I just wanted to apologize. It was all my fault; I let myself become tempted." The boy dropped to his knees, and Jin leaned against the doorframe, trying to seem as uninterested as possible. If no one had been present in the house, he would have just blasted the boy away with one gale of wind. Witnesses... nasty things they could be.

"I have no idea what I did, to tell you the absolute truth, but I heard that Holly went missing."

"She did. You pulled this monster outta nowhere an'-"

"I know! I know! I didn't know what was going on myself, but I do want to help get her back!"

Jin scratched one ear, raising an eyebrow at Hanabi. "You do, eh? Ain't this a surprise. What's to say I can trust you, at all?" Hanabi looked up, his gold eyes desperate, and Jin noticed that the familiar orange strip in the iris was gone. With a shuddering sigh, Hanabi managed to choke out, "What can I do to prove you can?"

But, no, that had been enough, that one look. The orange stripe - that last remainder of whoever it was that had most likely possessed the boy earlier. He had heard the cursing, before they had been attacked, and although it had come from the same set of vocal cords, the voice ensuing from Hanabi's voice hadn't been his own. The real question was whether or not Halloween had been the last of the albino-haired teen's less-than-desirable side.

Jin tossed his bag to Hanabi, who caught it awkwardly. "Carry that for me. We're leaving to get Holly back in a few minutes."

Hanabi struggled to his feet, his head bowed to the wind master. "T-thank you!" Jin rolled his eyes and wandered back into the house. "Sure, whatever... jus' don' cause anymore trouble."

* * *

"Well, we all set?" Yusuke glanced about the group, which seemed oddly mismatched. Between their random luggage and the half-dead air of tiredness about them, the spirit detective mentally griped about how the current group was going to be the best he was going to get. Even Hiei had distanced himself from them, perching in the plum tree, as if out of embarrassment of the crew. And, really, who could have blamed him?

But someone was missing...

"Oi, Rogerik, what's taking so long?" Yusuke called down the basement steps, and was met with unusually gloomy quiet. Now his patience was running short, he narrowed his brown eyes and yelled down again. "Hurry up, you idiot. We don't have all day."

"I'm not going," the thief replied, coming down the steps above the group. He had a familiar brass key in his hand, one Yusuke recognized as the twin to Lyra's bedroom door.

"You're what?" Lark asked, blue eyes darkening at the thief. Rogerik shrugged, and rubbed his thumb over the jagged edges of the key before putting it in his pocket. "Koenma's orders. I still have some work to do, and there's no way I could leave now."

Lyra sighed and readjusted her backpack strap. In a gentle tone, she asked, "You mean you still have more artworks to steal for Koenma, right?" Rogerik, full well knowing his roommate's reactions, nodded. It wasn't as if he was proud of the position, but he had been hoping he could avoid all this.

Kyuro snorted at Rogerik, and paced at the feet of the youkai and humans. Over the last hour, the familiar had become positively livid. "Whether you're going or not doesn't matter. You have the watch, right? Hand it over."

"Can't; another "bonus" from Koenma. I'm here to make sure the path stays open."

Kyuro hissed at the short reply, but Kurama looked a bit bothered by it. "So, while we're looking for Holly, you're in control on whether we come back or not?" Rogerik shook his head, and stared at the watch in his hand. "Come back safely is more like it. Michealangelo is going to be around, so don't worry."

"It leaves less room for you to screw up, then," Lark muttered, and crossed her arms, avoiding any eye contact with the thief. Lyra gave her sister a tired look, and sighed. Without Rogerik, if they were met with a lock of any sort it would take longer. She wasn't worried about attacks; the tantei were well equipped to meet any sort of adversary. But all that power would be useless if the front door was shut with a lock or kekkai. At least, she thought so; she had heard once from Kuwabara that his spirit sword was able to break through kekkai, but she didn't want to trust it just yet.

And, as much as her sister wanted to argue the point, Lyra knew that Rogerik was an undeniable member of the group; if he was missing, it wouldn't quite be normal.

Yusuke snorted, breaking the awkward silence of the room. "Whatever; if toddler-bitch is keeping you back here, there's nothing we can do about it. Just keep out of trouble." For all the tough-guy act was worth, Yusuke's last words were more of a friendly statement – the spirit detective truly meant it. Rogerik grinned, although it seemed forced, and leaned over the railing.

"Stop whining; we need to get you guys shipped out of here." The lid of the watch was flipped open, and The bloody smudged face began to blur. From the staircase, Rogerik held the watch out towards the group, and the crooked hands began to spin backwards.

"It'll be nice to have some peace and quiet around here you know; don't be surprised if I pawned some of your stuff off by the time you come back."

Lark was about to snap a reply, but everything had faded to white, and a wave of nausea hit her hard. She squeezed her eyes shut at the blinding void, and flailed her arms, searching for anyone else. When they were in the living room, she was sure that everyone was in a cramped group. Nothing touched her hands now.

Then, with an ungainly thwumph, her face was met with boggy grass, and she flipped over, coming to a rest with an overcast sky dominating her vision. With a groan, she closed her eyes and wished for sleep.

Koryu watched the blond teen slump down on the staircase, sitting on the steps and staring at the pocket watch with an unidentifiable expression. The creature had sensed the power surge from the house, and then the lack of energy signals from the other inhabitants. It didn't take long for him to piece events together; he had, last night, overheard the conversation between Koenma and Rogerik. Even tired and curled up in a hollow in the cliff wall, their voices had carried down to him.

"You really didn't want to be left behind, did you?" The rat-like monster asked, sticking his head in through the kitchen window and focusing all four eyes on the human psychic in an unnerving stare. Now that Yusuke had left, the water rat didn't care if he was seen infringing upon the student's home; and he was sure Rogerik would need someone to make conversation with.

There was a soft chuckle from the slouched figure on the stairs, and Rogerik stuffed the watch into his pocket. The laugh only lasted a second, however, and Koryu knew, as all animals seemed to know, that the human was putting on a façade. And a rather cheap façade, at that.

"Are you kidding? I'm not made for going against monsters; Koenma is usually right about the talents of his workers. Yusuke, Kurama, Hiei, even Kuwabara, they're better off in that type of situation than me - I'm just everyone's favorite errand boy."

Koryu gave the thief one last ruby-hued look, and left the kitchen window, moving quickly and silently towards the ocean.

* * *

Okay, so it's not Sunday, but close enough. Please don't kill me. o o;; Too lazy to reply to reviews this chappie, so I'll take care of that next time.

Oh, and just so you guys don't get angry with me for suddenly disappearing, I won't be able to update again this week. I have a number of reports to take care of, and school comes before fanfictions (of course, if this were an original story for publishing, the parents wouldn't mind my grades slipping so much).

Next chapter!

-Behold, magnificent Castle Lath! But how to get inside..? Why, a horse, of course.

-So, why does this horse have sharp pointy teeth and is entangled in a chain? (brownie points to all those who can figure out the Scottish mythical creature I'm talking about!)

-And, egads, Holly's alive! And she's also found a little sister... of sorts... okay, not really, but she's gonna play along anyways. If she doesn't, she won't be alive for much longer.


	16. When you just can't die

Quote of the Week: "Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead." - Gene Fowler

School took more time than I gambled it would. To tell the truth, as soon as my class got done with one project, another was assigned; so, after finishing the first ten pages by last Thursday, I hit a tad of a roadblock. . ;;

* * *

She took one look at the flagstone walls, and tried to open her sleep-gummed eyes some more. She was sure she was on the floor; but, if the walls were stone, then the surface beneath her was way too lumpy and squishy to be so. Groggily, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, and looked around her room. She was on an old mattress of sorts (she suspected it was stuffed with hay) that had been tossed on the floor; the walls and floor were the same type of uneven flagstone, held together by chipped and old mortar. Although the room was circular, there was a door off to her right, made of thick wooden planks and furnished with large cast-iron hinges. The hinges were probably for decoration, but she highly doubted the ornamental value of the giant padlock and tiny eye-height window with rusty bars across it.

There was only one window in the entire room. It was long and narrow, set up much higher than she could reach, with antique-looking stained glass across the top half. Somewhere along the colored glass and lead picture of some sort of biblical scene (she had never really read the bible, but the figure in the window had a sort of glowing halo about their head, and angels frolicked in the clouds above their head), the lead had twisted and ripped, and glass had fallen out to, most likely, crash to the ground below.

Slowly, Holly stood up, and pulled pieces of straw from her red-brown ponytail. Her entire body felt sore; as she took a step forwards, her leg suddenly felt as if it was a foot shorter than the other, and her stomach gave a little flip at the wave of nausea that hit her. Pins and needles shot through her leg, and she once again plopped down onto the straw mattress, the offending leg straight out in front of her. The witch pulled together a little of her common sense and eyed her leg it wasn't broken, and the aching feeling was soon fading away.

_It just fell asleep..._ She sighed and leaned back until her back met cold stone. The temperature of the wall sent small involuntary shivers up her spine.

So cold... it smelled like death... blood curdled about the open edges of the gashes along the spindly arms, and spider-like fingers held her tight. There was a panicked yelp from someone, and then she was up in the air, with no broom below her.

"So, it brought you back again."

Holly blinked greenish-hazel eyes and looked about the circular room. There were no corners, exactly, but the fading sunlight still left patches of complete darkness: shadows that she didn't have a light to use to break up. The stained glass half-window made strange patterns on the floor; a mix and mess of different colored blobs. The glob of color was broken by a foot - small and pale. Holly trailed her eyes up the foot, to the leg with a scabbed-over scratch on the knee, and then onwards to a scraggly, immature, young body with a plain cotton shift on it.

Although the stark white of the cotton dress glared out from the dark of the room, the blue eyes that peered out at her seemed brighter still. A pale hand brushed blonde-brown bangs out of the eyes, and the person stepped forwards.

"Y'know, LeeAnne, you shouldn' try t' escape so often. What if someone else found ya' instead of It?" A northern highlands accent, not unlike Jin's. But this speaker was a little girl, with a dirty face and messy hair, of only six or seven years old.

Holly blinked, the unfamiliar name settling upon deaf ears. Then, with a tone of unsettled nervousness, exclaimed, "Uh, excuse me?"

The little girl only giggled and smiled.

* * *

"Where the hell are we?"

The question seemed about right, for all it's wording. Lyra sweatdropped, and tried to see over the lupine. Not an easy task, seeing as she was only a few inches over five feet and the purple flowering plants could almost have challenged Kuwabara in height. Yusuke stood right beside her, viciously swatting plants out of his way, and sneering at the flowering heads that brushed against his face and hair.

"Yusuke, I really think we should find the others..." she trailed off as the spirit detective swung an arm out, batting and forcing a number of slender stalks to give way, and, in some cases, snap. Clustered purple flower heads fell, and the teen waded his way through the thick greenery. Lyra sighed, and followed the path of destruction, the earth spongy and damp beneath her feet.

The spongy mass that was the ground slowly firmed up and dried out, the squelchy noises that had accompanied their every step fading away until the two of them stood at the edge of the lupine bog, and stared out over a large, and very green, meadow. Only, unlike a wild meadow, which had a number of weeds and small shrubberies growing around the edges, this clearing much more resembled an immaculately cared-for lawn. And, over to their left, a forest grew.

The trees grew in straight, landscaped, rows and columns.

"Now that ain't normal," Yusuke muttered, crossing his arms and looking out over the meadow/lawn. Lyra slightly stepped back towards the lupine, eyes focused on the gray sky overhead. "I think we went the wrong way. We had better find where the others are." She toyed with the end of her braid, and the spirit detective followed her gaze, not at all thrilled about the prospect of oncoming rain.

"Yeah, I suppose so. I'm guessing this is land that belongs to that castle-y thing, right?"

"Castle Lain," was the immediate response. Lyra gave a small shudder, and grabbed onto Yusuke's arm, a bit too forcefully than was normal for the girl. But, at this point, she didn't care. Something unfriendly was roaming this area; she wasn't sensitive enough to determine what it was by the aura, but it reeked of aggressiveness and had a wild touch to it. Not a good combination, and she wasn't willing to risk more than she had to she had planned to find Holly and have everyone leave without fighting that... thing - whatever Jin had called it...

Yusuke's arm tensed under her grasp and the water manipulator released it. So, Yusuke could tell that there was something dangerous here... With a shared nod, both disappeared back into the lupine bushes, this time more cautious as to how they were moving. Rarely did a violet flower head move on the top of the wild mass of flora, and only ever so slightly.

* * *

"Lyra? Kurama? Yusuke? Jin? Victoria?" her cries got more desperate, and she started summoning a small sphere of water to soothe her scratchy throat. After a few sips, she called out again.

"Anyone! Hey! You guys out there?" No answer, and she sat herself down on a peculiar-shaped boulder that jutted out of the landscape. All around her was grass, a perfect green lawn. All flat and empty, devoid of people. She called up a bit of perfectly clean water in her hand, and drank from it, not caring as the water dripped down her chin.

Taking another sip of conjured water, Lark let her bag drop to the ground beside her rock perch and turned stormy eyes to the sky above her. Just a half hour into their wondrous "rescue mission" and everyone had gotten separated. The fog was starter to get thicker, now; where it had once been a thin silvery-gray mist, now it was as thick and pretty much the same color as iron.

Lark hopped down and searched through her bag for something to eat. There had been no time for breakfast earlier, and she happily chewed through a cranberry granola bar. Yep... no breakfast because Kyuro had been so damn persistent about leaving within the hour, and Rogerik had just shipped them off without a thought. Him and that stupid watch of his. If he wanted to, he could just trap them in this foggy new locale, and Lark wasn't quite ready to trust the blond at this point in time.

Slightly satisfied from the granola bar, she stood up and surveyed her surroundings. Grass, more grass, _even_ more grass, and at the very edges of the meadow, where the fog seemed thickest and more solid than ever, was a stand of trees. Seeing as there wasn't anyone within sight on this painfully bare lawn, she gathered her bag and struck out towards the forest. By the time she was just a few hundred meters away, something struck her as odd, and the nagging suspicion that something unusual was going on was roaring in her head. The trees... they were perfectly aligned, like someone had planted them that way instead of letting them grow wild. All of the trees were exactly straight, with no lower branches marring the smooth, identically diametrical trunks. Mixed with the fog and failing sunlight, it made Lark shiver.

Everything was so uniform, so alike, that it made everything seem a bit more than just creepy. She could, with her active imagination (god forbid the young girl catch you calling her imagination _over_active), picture the fog roll in and a hand grab her from out of nowhere, covering her mouth so she couldn't scream. She would fight and struggle, try to bite the hand that kept her from screaming bloody murder, but it would all be in vain... the culprit would drag her off into the woods, with who knew what sick ideas in mind, and she would be a helpless victim to their whims...

A hand clasped onto her shoulder, and Lark was snapped out of her daydream. With a shrill shriek, she leapt away, whacked her head on another tree in an attempt to get away from the first one (and her attacker), and managed to catch herself on yet another trunk instead of sprawling on the ground. Without even really telling herself to, she found herself summoning another sphere of water to toss.

"There's no reason for you to go screaming like that," the attacker drawled, and Lark blinked, letting the water dissipate. She had never really heard the short man before her say so much, but she supposed it made sense he would be here, in a forest.

"Hiei, you scared the crap out of me."

The three-eyed demon smirked, and leaned against one of the perfectly smooth, silvery-gray tree trunks, hands shoved in his pockets. The water manipulator just stared at him for a second, then realized what was wrong; the demon's cling-on was missing.

"Hey, where's-"

"Can't find her," Hiei muttered, red eyes darkening as he glanced to the treetops above them. "The little twit was missing even when I came to." He fell silent, leaving the younger Admarant sister to ponder over what had possibly happened to the dragonling.

It wasn't really something Lark wanted to think about. Especially when it concerned the innocent young Mara.

"So you're just sitting back, sulking? You jerk, she could be in danger!"

"She isn't," He interrupted. At her questioning glare, he sighed and took his hands out of his pockets. "I don't know where she is, but I do know that she's unharmed." As if to prove the statement, his jagan glowed faintly from underneath the white cloth that was tied around his forehead. The red-hued glare and glowing eye deterred any possible comeback that Lark might have had, and she meekly nodded.

"Hiei, could you find the others with that eyesore of yours?" The black-haired youkai glared, and Lark nervously chuckled. She hadn't meant to make a pun. "Sorry. But finding everyone else would be, you know, helpful."

Hiei said nothing, and for a moment Lark wondered if he had even bothered to listen to her, but the jagan glowed once more as he crossed his arms and closed his red eyes. A few moments of terse quiet, and then the demon suddenly came to and stared ahead, down the rows of trees. "A bit north by east." As Lark turned around, intending to follow her steps back to the clearing, Hiei placed a hand on her shoulder. She stared at him, a bit dumbfounded, considering he had made physical contact twice in the span of 24 hours.

"I would suggest not going back out there; North is the other way." He jerked his head back, towards the eerie finely tended-to garden, with the fog and mist curling up the trunks of trees and invisible end, and Lark sweatdropped.

"...You go first. I'll wait here for ya."

* * *

Normally, he considered himself fairly lucky. Once killed, yet able to, just in time, return to the living, to be born into a loving family. Shiori had always given her all for her "son", and he had returned her motherly love, although it had take a bit of time for it to sink in. Intelligent and able to survive in the world of mortals, and the dwelling place of demons as well. Top of his grades, in standing for an excellent college (or two... or three), and surrounded by friends.

A bit of bad karma, perhaps left over from his days as the merciless thieving fox Youko, had snuck up on him tonight. Right about now, he had no idea where he was, except that it was in front of a large castle (one he presumed was the castle Lain, judging by the aura emanating from it) and the guards wore skirts.

Okay, so they were kilts, but still...

"Geez, what kind of man wears a skirt?"

"Kilts, Kuwabara, kilts. It's a ethnical dress of Scotland, I believe; hence the Scottish name of the castle." Kurama rocked back on his heels, letting go of the branch of shrubbery and looking up towards the higher towers. It was a big castle, tall and imposing, but rundown-looking. It had to be nearly 400 years old, he guessed, and not exactly subject to a historical building protection program.

Next to the fox, Kuwabara stopped surveying the front gates of the castle and gave the redhead a lazy glare. "Say what you want, Kurama. Still a skirt to me." Kurama sighed in reply, and watched as Kuwabara moved away from the shrub, a bit less gracefully and much more noisily. The younger teen swore, but not loud enough for anyone that wasn't in the immediate vicinity to hear, and dug at the palm of his left hand, finally pulling out a rather nasty-looking thorn that he had pulled out.

"Jin better hurry up and finish with that aerial search he's doing. I mean, we're plenty helpful at a time like this, but Jin could prob'ly fly right up and in a window and save us a crapload of trouble."

"A good point, but it can't hurt to be a bit more patient." An unfaltering smile, and Kuwabara stared at the fox demon as if Kurama had suddenly sprouted a tail. "Riiight... Still wanna get this over with." The carrot-top shivered violently, flicking wide eyes back towards the castle. "The aura of this place is out of whack. Wish we could just go home."

"I highly doubt this little excursion will be so short." The fox grimaced at the memory of their trip to Cecilia's hotel, and Kuwabara grinned in sympathetic good humour. "Aw, c'mon, Kurama. This'll be over in no time!"

...Famous last words.

* * *

He cried out involuntarily as his foot got tangled in a root or something of the like, and he hit the ground. He figured it would have been a more pleasant tumble, if a bramble bush hadn't decided to break his fall.

"Ah! Crap, that hurts..." Hanabi grabbed onto an overhanging tree branch, glad that the backpack he was wearing had protected at least some part of him from the scratching thorns. As he dusted himself off and started to pull bits of foliage out of his white hair, the teen started to wonder if this part of the forest was any better than the unusually clean one behind him. The other stand of trees, with its flora all in a row, tended to get on his nerves and make him jumpy.

Like you weren't, before.

"Shut it." Hanabi didn't even bother to keep the comment inside his head. But, he knew that the other voice was just as annoyed and shaken as he was. "Hey, you can control your aura-y powers... think you can get me out of here?"

His only reply was a mental snort of held-in laughter. Hanabi frowned; normally, only He was this annoying. The snorting laugh died down, and the voice seemed to become more serious.

Okay, okay... let me see what I can do. I'll need to borrow you for a minute, though.

Not really something he wanted to do, but what choice was there? Hanabi hadn't caught view of any of the others ever since that watch went haywire at Holly's dorm. So, he gradually let his subconscious slip away, reluctant to let himself leave the world of the living.

* * *

Nothing... that's all he saw. Trees, trees, and more trees... no, wait, there was a small lake, and an empty lawn, but other than that, guess what?

Trees.

Jin kicked back, not at all amused at the lay of the land below him. Kurama had asked if the windmaster could find a way in and/or locate Holly. No such luck, unless you counted the front door as a danger-free entrance. And everything inside the castle was blocked out by an aura of sorts and not a very nice aura at that.

The wind picked up a little, barely noticeable, and the demon pricked elven ears at the gloomy-looking expanse of trees a bit northwest of him. Something was going on there, and it could very well be one of the students he had come to this place with. He had already run into Kuwabara and Kurama, so who knew? With a jovial spurt of energy, he plunged down into the trees, hoping to meet a familiar face.

They were familiar, kinda, but none too happy.

"You idiot, watch where you're goin'!" The coarse language from the familiar voice made Jin blink in confusion. Floating cross-legged in midair, he cocked his head at the person in front of him. "Eh, Hanabi, you okay there?"

Hanabi gaped a little, then composed himself, peering through the thick forest undergrowth with golden-yellow eyes. "Of course I'm fine. You guys only just abandoned me." The last bit was an insult, Jin guessed, and he supposed that Hanabi had a right to be upset. Although he had only seen it from the air, the youkai wasn't all too fond of this place, already. "No need to be so touchy."

"I am not _touchy_. As a matter of fact, I-" The agitated look on Hanabi's face slowly faded away to a complete blank, and Jin wondered just how many voices could be inside the boy's head for him to shift gears like he had. So far there was only the demonic one, right..?

Lack of emotions turned into a quickly fumbled apology, as the white-haired teen managed to get himself back together. "Sorry 'bout that, really. Dunno what came over me..."

"...Uh-huh..."

* * *

With a slight twitch of his tail in agitation, Kyuro perched atop Victoria's head.

"This isn't good... all those fools are moving away from each other," the cat muttered. Victoria gently moved the black-furred tail out of his face and his forehead creased in thought. From what little experience he's had members of the group as a whole, he had expected them to locate each other by aura searching. "There might be something distracting them and us." The cross dresser waved a hand at the fog that enshrouded them. "That is, to say, you don't think we're lost as well."

The black cat haughtily sniffed, for a moment his old self. "No weak kekkai like this fog net could get me lost." He caught a look from Victoria, and meekly settled down again. "In any case, keep traveling North East; Yusuke and Lyra should be in the fields just out of these woods."

Victoria went to step forwards, then paused, a creeping grin on his face. "And which way is North East?" Kyuro glared down at the young man, and growled, "Forwards!"

"I thought it angled a bit to the right..."

"No, so shut your dressied-up yap and keep walking!"

"Do you have a compass to prove it?" He was teasing, but it was almost singsong; the cat hated to hear that tone from anyone.

"In any case, I'm just glad you guys managed to run into us; it'd be a huge problem if everyone just scattered out every where." A kind smile, soft blue eyes, and Victoria hugged her with little (if any) abandon. "Yes, what a tragedy! But, business first, so the others might have to wait until the castle."

"If I know Kurama, he's prob'ly waiting for us outside the front gates," Yusuke muttered, uninterested as always. Well, perhaps not completely, but the spirit detective supposed it was better to be left a bit out of the conversation rather than receive one of Victoria's bone-crushing hugs. Kyuro, sensing a pun, sneered with his muzzle of sharp little teeth. "He probably has the tea boiling and everything; and has looted the entire place." Both erupted into constrained snickers, and Lyra tried to shoot them as best a condescending glare as she could muster.

"Alright, you two, stop it. We have to find everyone else, even if it slows us down."

Kyruo's mouth snapped shut, and the cat suddenly seemed to sober up.Yusuke, however, turned brown eyes to the sky. "Too bad no one's around to get us an aerial view..."

A rogue gust of wind swept across the ground, tearing sharper than any blade, and all three young adults squinted against the sudden outburst of wind. From around the loud noise, Lyra could just make out, "Well, are you happy, now?" Before a dull thud announced the crash-impact landing of something heavy. The wind died down, and Lyra lowered her arms, expecting to see a Jin-sized crater in the ground. The person who finally moved, looking around with golden-yellow eyes the size of saucers, was unexpected, though.

"What happened..?" Hanabi muttered, then noticed the fairly limp body next to him and blinked in surprise it already seemed his eyes couldn't get any bigger. "Jin, man, are you okay?"

A slight groan from the windmaster, but that at least meant that he was alive. Yusuke was soon by their side, helping the redheaded youkai to his feet and pulling him out of the churned-up ground. "You know what happened?"

Hanabi pointed to himself for a moment, as if to rectify that he was the target of Yusuke's question, then shook his head. "I don't really know. We were flying along no problem, when the wind he was controlling seemed to just kinda... die."

"...Flew too high..."

"Eh?" Yusuke peered down at the battered demon, but Jin said no more. With a look of disdain, the spirit detective dumped his load onto Victoria. "Have fun." Victoria sweatdropped, but turned green eyes to the sky, frowning slightly as he shifted Jin's weight draped over his shoulders. There was no way that Jin could have gone too high, not when he had a passenger as fragile and unused to the wind as Hanabi. The aura enshrouding the forest might also act as a kekkai, and if it did it could cause problems during their return.

"Do you really think moving on is the best idea?" Lyra's voice was pleading, and Victoria forced himself to pay attention to his reunited companions. Yusuke shoved his hands in his pockets, not looking too happy about the decision, himself. "We have nothing to gain by standing around here, and Jin'll recover fine, trust me." The windmaster groaned and went to touch the bloodied bruise on his forehead, below his horn, but winced and lurched forwards, teeth gritted. Bringing a grim smirk to his face, Yusuke turned away from the windmaster.

"We don't much of a choice, and this entire place is giving me a chill. All we need now is to find your sister, Kurama, and co. and we're all set to storm the castle or whatever we need to do."

"Sounds like a tall order," Hanabi muttered, gold eyes darkening. From ground, Kyuro arched his back and hissed, fur sticking out like quills.

* * *

Red eyes closed, and the purple glow of the jagan lit the forest canopy once more. From below, he heard the soft rustling of leaves stop and the wind and fog weaved through the rows of trees. For a moment, the entire world was silent, and then, almost so quiet it couldn't be heard, was a whispered "crap."

His eyes snapped open, concentration forgotten, and he could hear the slight inclination of heartbeats that meant Lark had realized the youkai had heard her. He glared straight ahead, aware that the girl below him couldn't see it; still, she wasn't so stupid to understand that he wasn't too happy about the interruption. Words weren't exactly needed, but he was just annoyed enough with this place that he figured a few insults wouldn't be out of place. "Do you mind, fool girl?"

She didn't reply, and he shifted his red-eyed stare downwards. No remark, no brash confidence - she was ready to jump out at anything that moved. For once, Lark was really, truly scared. "You should have stayed behind."

She whirled around, searching the trees with narrowed gray-blue eyes. "Bull! You're probably not even trying to find the others, either." The last part was said with a snort, as if she didn't' believe herself, and Hiei sighed in exasperation. Better be honest, at least.

"No, I'm not trying to find Lyra, Kurama, or the others."

"So you're looking for Mara... But you told me you couldn't-"

"Not at that particular point in time. Now shut up so you don't scare her away."

And, before she could answer, he had moved on. Lark hefted her bag higher on her shoulders, and tried to sense Hiei's aura as best as her meager abilities let her. He wasn't too far ahead, and still moving slowly, as if he was staying back for her to catch up.

She had never quite understood the relationship between the gruff demon and heart-melting dragonling, and suspected she never really would. Her memories with her mother were few and faded by time beyond restoration, and her father hadn't been around for a couple years now; a letter could never make up for never really being there in the flesh. Sure, she could dream about responsible parents (and often she did), but had never had such role models in her life. No time to dwell on it now, however; if Hiei was really that close to the white dragon, he would find her with or without Lark trailing behind.

For her own well-being, Lark hoped that the dragonling hadn't gotten herself into trouble again. Hiei would be pissed as hell.

"Oh, aren't you a new face, little one?" He looked up, brushing the twiggy branches away with a pale, pale hand, and gazed up at the shivering creature holed up in the tree. Snow-white skin, not quite covered in scales in the traditional sense of fish, but more like the smooth surface of snakeskin. Silvery-white hair grew down it's neck and along its back in one long tuft; almost all neck and tail, tiny claws clung to the branch as the long tail wrapped around it. And, most unusual of all, large leathery wings.

The creature's head poked out from the leaves, blue eyes wide and drawing air into the delicate nostrils at an insane speed, and he left his hand out. It slowly stretched its neck forwards, took a quick sniff, then cocked its head, confused.

"C'mon, don't mind that. I won't hurt you," he crooned, and the tail slowly loosened its grip. His arm felt heavier as the weight of the animal shifted onto it, and he brought his arm close to his chest, holding the animal close and supporting it. His eyebrows arched, he whistled in a low tone. "I'll be: you're one of those dragons, I bet."

"Yes she is. Now return her before I have to break those fingers of yours." Whoever had spoken came from behind him, and he forced himself not to tense up; there was no real need to worry, in all truth. Not like he could be killed...

Again.

The "dragon" in his arms chirped and rustled its wings, squirming out of his arms and over his chest, stretching those same wings free when it climbed onto his shoulder. Despite all it's gentleness it still hurt when the claws dug in and released as the white dragon kicked off and flapped its oversized wings. Considering it would be better if he came off as unarmed and harmless (because whoever the dragon belonged to was very protective of his pet), he put both hands in the air and slowly turned around.

Standing right in back of him was a young girl, with black hair and wide gray-blue eyes. No sign of the dragon there. He looked up, and noticed the shiny white that gave the young creature away; it was perched quite comfortably upon the head of a small cloaked man, its tail wrapped gently around his neck. Almost as comfortably as his hand was on the handle of his far-eastern style sword. Ah, drat... he never could remember the particular name for it. _Not that now is the best of times..._

The girl broke the silence. "So, uh, nice to know you can't hurt us and all, but you should probably run. Hiei is a bit of an overprotective mother hen when it comes to Mara, and-"

"Silence." One word, no need to even raise his voice, and this "Hiei" had complete control of the situation. The sword's tip never moved, but he was sure that it was aimed at his vitals if he had any, that was. "Now, tell me what you did to her. Now."

"Nothing, I-I swear!"

"Don't make me use this weapon; I spent a good hour treating the metal this morning."

He pointed at the sword tip, hands still in the air and ignoring the wide-eyed look the girl gave him. "Now, now. No need to use violence in front of young ones or this lady- erk."

He blinked brown eyes, and stared at the blade that pierced his chest, driven up to the hilt. The man, Hiei, must have thrown it at him. A good show of skill, too; the short dangerous man had moved so fast he had never even noticed his movements.

The faint smirk on Hiei's lips slowly faded when he realized the young man in front of him didn't collapse to the ground, blood gurgling in his throat. He didn't even dramatically keel over, awestruck. No. Instead, he poked at the hilt and rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his other hand.

"Good show there, with this... uh... ah, damn it all, I never can seem to recall what these swords are called."

* * *

"LeeAnne, tell me a story." The little girl, in her dirty cotton dress, snuggled closer, drawing skinny legs with scabbed-over knees to her chest as she lay her head on Holly's lap. The witch grimaced at the name, but rubbed the younger girl's head. "For the last time, my name is Holly. Not LeeAnne."

The little girl giggled, and stopped fighting to keep her eyes open. "At least you're not trying to be Queen Mary, anymore. Mama used to have a fit whenever you tried to skip your chores and pretended you were the queen."

Hazel-green eyes widened, and Holly stared down at the little girl incredulously. "Queen... Mary?" She asked, lip twitching. Dirty blonde bangs were brushed out of the large eyes, and the youngster smiled. "Yes! You aren't playing, then? Can I hear the one about Setanta?"

"Er..."

"Oh, come one! Setanta! The Hound?" The girl struggled to sit up, and Holly put a hand on her skinny shoulder. "Haven't you heard that one before, though? Wouldn't you rather hear another story?" The witch had never heard of this "Setanta", and doubted whoever it was would bear a resemblance to the Santa she knew of. The young girl lay her head back down on Holly's lap, staring at the black pit above them; the ceiling was high, so high that even the last rays of sunlight didn't reveal exactly where it met the walls.

"What about Oberon?" She asked, voice rising to a pitiful whine. Holly searched in her head for a story to go with the name, and Shakespeare stuck out in her head. Oberon was a fairy king, in one of Shakespeare's works. Or maybe Shakespeare had just used him as a literary reference? There was also the chance that Holly had once put the name on a test she had in her English class (one she'd most likely have failed) and didn't know anything besides he was a fairy maybe not even that was true.

"Uh, well, I heard about this new story... while I was out there," she lied, and the little girl's eyes brightened, then her eyebrows furrowed. "Where did you hear it from?"

"A traveler; he was a, um, traveling storyteller!" Great, now she just had to make up a story. Victoria and Lark, both of them, had been great at this sort of thing - not her.

"That traveler won't last too long, then." The girl mumbled, shifting around so she faced away from Holly and towards the broken stained glass window. Holly felt her lie slipping, and hotly asked, "And why not? He looked perfectly capable of handling himself."

"Not against the pooka, he won't. Even It doesn't like to handle the pooka..."

Pooka... where had she heard about it, before? Again, it was matter studied in a different class; Kurama or Lyra would be able to name off whatever it was no problem, as long as it was some sort of animal. With a sigh, she wracked her brain for a story to lighten the mood, and the story Travels to the West came to mind. "In any case, ever hear of Priest Sanzo and Goku the monkey king and their pilgrimage to India?"

The young girl shifted again and looked Holly straight in the eyes. "No... what happened?"

And thus, the witch began the tale of the holy priest and his demon companions, scraping together nearly forgotten chapters as best she could. But her mind strayed to the possibility of something that could scare away the monster that had brought her here - if such a thing existed.

* * *

And cookies to those of you who attempted to answer. Sleipnir was a good guess (I didn't notice how similar the pooka and Sleipnir were by my descriptions. ;;), but our favorite 8-legged horse is Norse mythology, not Scottish. I think I should put a web address to a reliable mythological animal compendium up on one of my chapters or something; it'd make life easier for all of us. O o;;

Anywho, ph34r my ghetto mythological dictionary!

Setanta: A brave young boy in celtic mythology, he defeated a ferocious guard dog, earning himself the nickname "The Hound".

Oberon: The king of fairies, he starred in Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream" (and, in my sister and I's not so humble opinion, was the completely whipped husband of Titania).

Pooka: Descriptions differ, but it is always a black horse. In Irish mythology, it can breathe fire and can clear mountains in a single stride, and can follow ships out to sea. Whoever tries to ride it is carried so fast that it is impossible to jump off for fear of death, and it has a chain wrapped about it's neck that forever binds you to it. and then the pooka chucks you off so you break you neck and die. Other times, it was said to drag it's riders down into the sea with it. Taming it was possible, but as soon as it saw a river or lake, it would forget all domestication and escape into the water. In some stories, the pooka actually ate it's victims.


	17. A Ghost of a Chance

Quote of the week: "I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by." - Douglas Adams (one of the wittiest and most brilliant writers _ever_, may he rest in peace)

Eeh... . . You guys aren't too mad, riiight? The document was locked in an inaccessible file-thingy... so it wouldn't upload, I couldn't edit it or change it to a word file, and I needed to re-write the entire thingy.

:sighs: God, I'm so behind it isn't even funny. Guess who's gonna be working on this overtime during the summer? -.-;;

* * *

Trees and earth and sky... all in one unending, dizzying, foggy endlessness as far as the eye could see. The trees, perfectly vertical and smooth, branches far above their heads, seemed to go on forever and disappear into the clouded sky. She tripped over...something, and regained her balance; a thick layer of fog covered the ground, starting to thin only at her mid-calf, and blocking the view of whatever littered the ground. Maybe she didn't want to know. In any case, she walked on.

It had been quiet for a while, with nothing for her to distract her mind with for the last thirty minutes. Looking ahead at her newest companion, however, she shuddered and wished it wasn't so dark out. Moving so quickly it looked like he was just gliding over the fog, the young man looked back at her with warm brown eyes and smiled; instead of making Lark feel better, however, she only shuddered. Maybe the young man - Korfius, she had learned his name was - didn't notice, but he was glowing. A soft, gentle light that prevented the dark and fog from fully enveloping them. She wasn't sure if she was grateful for the living nightlight or not; but she knew she would have given anything to get out of the forest by now.

"Is there anything wrong, Lark?" He paused by another tree, his light almost reflecting off the silvery bark. From above, she heard the slight creak of a thin branch supporting the weight of Hiei. The fire youkai had been in a mood ever since Korfius had pulled the katana out of his chest and, after politely wiping the blade clean of any ectoplasmic goo (or whatever ghosts bled), had handed it to him hilt-first.

There was still a slit cut in his tunic-shirt, positioned just over his heart. No matter how many demons or apparitions (even humans, in some rare cases) could have survived such a blow, there was no way they wouldn't bleed.

Unless they weren't alive to begin with.

"Nah, I'm fine." She tried to pry her eyes away from the tear, but couldn't and, instead, asked, "Doesn't that, um, hurt?"

"Eh? Uh, no, not really. I've been stabbed and shot at before, and it never hurts." He picked at the cut clothing, and gave the younger girl a joking smile. "It did tickle, though."

From above, a twig snapped with a loudness that was surprising for the stealthy Hiei, and there was a slight angry cough, followed by the pacifying "Maaaaa," of Mara. Lark sweatdropped at the reaction, and Korfius blinked. "Uh, is something wrong..?"

"N-no! Maybe we should just take a break, ya know? Rest the legs, steady the breathing... something to make sure we don't die walking back to the castle." As soon as the word "die" was out of Lark's mouth, she cringed, hoping the ghost-boy wasn't too hurt by the comment. Instead, he leaned back against a tree trunk and shrugged. "Rest if you want, but it'd be safer to get out of this forest as fast as possible."

All that answered him was a full minute of silence, without so much as the song of a cricket or owl's hoot to break the misty shield of the nighttime maze of trees. It was disquieting, unusual, and, in Lark's not-so-humble opinion, scary as all hell. Forget monsters and ghosts and creepy-crawlies that looked like they belonged at a class reunion with Elvira... if you ever wanted to scare someone, anyone at all, all you needed was complete silence.

"So, what are you doing all the way out here?" She was glad she broke the quiet. Korfius looked perfectly comfortable waiting silently, and Hiei..? She was certain the midget would become a pop superstar before ever ruining a perfectly good awkward moment such as then. Korfius, nonetheless, blinked and pointed at himself, as if wondering if there was some other stranger lost in the woods behind him that she was talking to.

"Me? I was just going to meet a young lady-friend of mine. Technically, I was supposed to meet her before the sun set, but I got a bit lost."

"A lady friend?" Even way out here, in the middle of the most dark and unsettling forest known to mankind, and with a friend currently kidnapped, the age-old tale amused her. Korfius blushed, if it was even possible for a ghost to blush, and twiddled his thumbs. "Yes, well... I'm quite worried about her, you see. First she suddenly grabs her younger sister and leaves for a castle miles away from the village, and now a rather dangerous spirit, the Pooka, has been out as of late. I just hope that she and her sister are safe."

"No other possible reasons, Korfius, my boy?" Lark slyly asked, her gray eyes teasing. The undead older boy seemed to blush and scratched the back of his head. "I would have met her on time, if that beastly Pooka hadn't chased me out here..."

"A Pooky chased you?"

"Pooka." The correction was from Hiei, who, for quite a while, hadn't spoken a word. "A dangerous adversary. We better steer clear of it."

"We can't!" Both Hiei and Lark blinked at the outburst, and Mara woke up from her nap for a moment, then let loose a soft chirruping sigh and buried her muzzle once again in Hiei's shock of black hair. Even though Korfius' sudden volume of speaking was really far too loud to stay safe and undetected, Lark coyly smiled. "Oh-ho... Gotcha."

* * *

Finally; the little girl was asleep, and Holly managed to gently move her out of her lap. She had been only a half hour into the tale of the priest Sanzo, and already she had been pulling sudden plot twists out of who-knew-where. All that time, she had been hoping her new younger companion would fall asleep, and was thrilled when the little girl had nodded off indefinitely.

Moonlight beckoned her to the window, where silvery luminescence made the white, opaque wings of the angels glow and shimmer. The twisted and garbled lead didn't even upset the scene anymore, and all that could be seen through the thin high window were moonlit forests and lakes. The wall that ran around the castle seemed to be falling apart at the borders, but it all could have been a trick of the light.

She glanced back at the sleeping child. Who knew where she was? And who could possibly rescue her? Holly thought of waking the girl up, if only for some definite company, but forced the thought out of her head. Not only would it be mean, but she wasn't yet re-charged with new ideas for another story-spinning. Not that it was really her story to begin with...

There was a bit of movement down below, and the girl fancied she saw a bright white orb down below. A light? A search party..? Upon closer inspection, however, it appeared to be... ah, what a letdown. It was only the moon, reflected in a murky channel of water that seemed to run about the fortress. No dramatic rescue there. Just wet and water and fish. She supposed she could have scaled down the wall (if she ever figured out how to get past the window, first) but what if there was something less than welcoming down below? All she needed was a bigger version of the goldfish-o-doom that had scared Kyuro earlier that week.

A week? Was that how long ago she had helped Lark duct-tape the hell out of that cheap-o little "Fish as Friends!" starters' tank? Good Lord...

No, wait! She hadn't been imagining seeing something in motion! There it went again, the water rippling and making little V's in it's wake, disrupting the reflection of the moon. Holly bit her bottom lip, wishing that the creature wasn't just some duck or fish.

If she was lucky, it could be a person.

Then, the V's seemed to split in the middle, and she caught the black shadow underneath. Whatever was underneath was at least as long as a human; wider, with a narrow strip of long black hair trailing behind it, but not quite human. One almond-shaped ear flicked upwards, flinging droplets of water, and the witch saw the faint ghostly-image of one of the "guards" on the walkway off to the right and a floor below turn around and spot the intruder. He let out a hoarse yell, and more comrades rushed over, spears and crossbows, and even long swords, at hand.

The ears were suddenly pinned back, the universal animal sign for agitation, and the shadow faded back into the murky depths of the moat-like stream. But... the moat had to connect to some other source of water _somewhere_ else... it was a constantly flowing current.

The thing disappeared, and Holly felt herself sigh in relief. But the relief turned to fear as a small hand grasped onto a belt loop on her jeans and she felt a soft tug. More air was sucked in, and the witch tightened her grip on a shard of lead that looked particularly loose from the frame before turning to face her opponent.

Dirty cotton and a freckled face. Thank God... "Hey, you. What're you doing awake at this time of night?"

"But you're awake." Agh; one of those childish complaints that you couldn't argue about. But you could try...

"I'm going back to bed, now. I just thought I saw something outside." Holly put on a pleasing smile, and gently grasped the little girl's arm. Once tired and dull-witted, the youngster suddenly seemed to come to life and easily slipped out of the older girl's grasp. Before Holly could even lunge forwards, she had scampered up the wall until she had gotten a firm hold of the windowsill. She scrambled up, raising her chin above the edge, making Holly nearly yelp - there were a number of broken shards of glass that stuck straight up like tiny knives, ready to impale any soft throat that came into contact. All the child had to do was get tired and go to rest her head, and it would be over...

"Oh, good. Korfius didn't try to come again." She bounced back from the wall, letting go of the window and the scared look in her wide eyes quickly fading to one of disinterested anger. "You better not be seeing him again, LeeAnne."

"E-eh?" She had never heard of a Korfius before in her life! The message, coming from a child easily at least five years her younger, however, seemed oddly familiar. An overprotective sibling; so similar to Victoria's own warnings that it made a sharp little something in her heart dig in and twist a little more. Homesickness, or the ferverent hope that someone was looking for her, somewhere?

She swore to herself that if she ever saw Kyuro again, she'd squeeze and hug him until he clawed his way to freedom by force.

"Hey, uh, kidlet, why don't you go back to bed now, okay? Come on, I'll help get that straw pile all fluffy and comfy for you." She gently got hold of the young girl's hand and, seeing as the little girl wasn't fighting the prospect of bedtime (unlike most childers, and even some teenage roommates, did) plunked herself down on the pitiful mattress. The young child yawned and curled up next to the witch, burying her filthy little face in her arms and Holly's side. Quiet filled the room, and the angel wing light mosaic cast on the wall above seemed to dim, even; it made her uncomfortable.

"You know, you'd think we'd get an actual bed if we're so important..."

"LeeAnne, go to bed."

Holly cut off her reply that she wasn't this "LeeAnne" and sighed. "I'm not LeeAnne" was starting to become a mantra for her.

* * *

"You know, normally people check what direction they're traveling in before setting off on a whirlwind rescue-adventure," Hanabi muttered, ignoring the looks from his companions. To tell the truth, the looks were coming less and less frequently, as did the little nagging voice that told him to shut up and hand the reins over to the rightful owner of the shared physical body.

Mentally, He smirked, amused as both Hanabi and the mind-bitch cursed and mumbled at him from inside the vast expanses of their brain. Hey, He had summoned a giant monster, aided in a dangerous revenge plot, and had given them a break (granted, He had been in a comatose state) for a good two days now. He deserved some free time to run around.

And if you don't shut it, boy, imagine what the buzz around school would be if you showed up to class wearing nothing but a pair of socks...

Well, that seemed to shut them up. And good timing, too; it took all of His concentration to fend off the miasmatic aura surrounding them. The other ungrateful idiots He traveled with probably never noticed it, but the fog was always thinner and weaker wherever they were. Then again, the fox, Kurama, was an exceptionally bright ten-watt bulb - smarter than many of the other humans and demons that surrounded His presence, and he considered himself fortunate that the group hadn't found him yet. Bah...they didn't know how lucky they were to have Him around.

"You, monster." It wasn't as if the cat was insulting Him, the tone was as if the familiar had been calling Him by name more that anything. Not to say the title exactly fit; He was less of a monster than the furry little creature that called him so.

The taller man, Victoria, made an attempt to shrug Kyuro off of his shoulder, perhaps embarrassed at the lack of manners of the cat, and settled for flicking Kyuro's ears when the cat dug his claws in. "Kyuro, be nice."

"There's no need for Him. We have our hands full, already." Snide and pompous. Mentally He shrugged, saw an image of Hanabi shrugging as well, and the mind-bitch sighing in agreement. An alpha attitude all three of them got, and that was even before they had shared the same body. "Whatever you say, furball. But the river is over a bit more to our right."

Jin, Lyra, Yusuke, and Victoria all turned their gaze over to the trees to their right more out of curiosity than anything else. From Victoria's shoulder, the ebon familiar snorted and made himself more comfortable.

"Feh... as if to trust _you_..!"

A few seconds then, in which no one moved, and then Jin spoke up: "Actually, there was a river er' moat runnin' by... when I checked from th' air."

More silence, in which He smirked through Hanabi's body (which was usually too busy trying not to be noticed to really smile, much less smirk His face muscles were already starting to get tired from all the smirking He had done already) and Kyuro stiffened. It was actually quite amusing to watch how such a flexible creature such as a cat could make their spine ramrod-straight.

Victoria gave the black cat a questioning look, one eyebrow (thankfully free of any makeup or liner) raised. One feline ear started twitching incessantly, and cat stared straight ahead. "Are you sure, Jin?" He asked. When the windmaster meekly nodded his head, still too dazed from earlier to chance flying again, the cat gave a low growl and pointed one extended claw off the trail. "To the right it is. If you're wrong, however, monster..."

He feigned hurt innocence and put up his hands in defeat. "I wouldn't dare, sir. But you better hurry; that wandering could lose you your witch."

"My sister won't be the only lost one." Lyra blinked in surprise at Victoria's comment, but Yusuke managed a minute grin. "About time someone shut them both up."

* * *

"Sooo...anything else about this girl, Korfius?" Lark teased, hopping over a barely-noticed root as she speed-walked after the ghost. Although he was turned away from her, she saw his ears turn a muted shade of red and grinned wickedly. "Hey, stop being so distant. We're looking for a girl, as well. Maybe we could all work together?"

Korfius paused, and Lark had to grab onto a tree trunk to stop herself from nearly running right into him. The thought made her wonder if it was possible to walk right through him: he was a ghost, after all. The fog swirled around his frame, and then the boy smiled. "Maybe we can."

The air next to her seemed to thicken and turn black, until she realized it was an illusion of the fog at all, but a body. Lark blinked at Hiei's sudden interest in the matter, but chose not to comment, as the fire demon was obviously not in the mood for interruptions. "Good. Any information on this girl? Appearance, name, where she might be?"

"Uh, I think he already answered the last one," Lark mentioned, but a ruby glare quieted her with an "eep!". Mara slithered over from Hiei's head to Lark's shoulder, and nuzzled the girl's cheek, her serpentine tail twitching from it's spot by the demon's neck. She gave the sympathetic dragonling a quick tussle of the mane.

"She's shorter then me, and has reddish hair." Korfius seemed to not be looking directly at them, and Lark noticed the creeping blush with the glee that only a gossiper had. As the ghost boy thought more about his missing "friend", he seemed to get farther and farther away from reality. "Quite pretty, with bright green eyes and freckles... she used to hate it when her mother called the sunkisses, but still. She was always active, and never indoors; mischievous and creative enough to be a weaver of tales, but wanted to travel. She was never really happy with her parents; they were both very good people, but just lacked the imagination to keep up with her..."

Hiei raised an eyebrow at this and coughed, about ready to snap the boy out of it, but was instead victim to a sharp elbow jab from Lark. The black-haired girl hissed something of an insult at him, and he fell silent, moodily staring at the fog as it made the most unusual shapes in the air. _The last thing we have the time for is some lovesick fool's tangent about the girl he was stupid enough to lose._

_Hiei, _Lark warned, taking advantage of the jagan's power and range to break into the conversation. _Be patient. We might learn something useful._

_Like one hundred and one clichés to use in a dime store romance novel?_ Lark chose not to reply telepathically, but instead gave him another elbow jab. This time, he twisted a little so the attack didn't rattle against his ribcage so painfully.

"...She was brought to the castle, at first to work there, but then her sister came and she became a favored "guest" of the Beast... " Ah, good. Korfius' story was winding down to an end.

"So, uh, what does all that have to do with you looking for her? And, not to sound rude, but who the hell is she?" If Hiei hadn't bound himself to a strict pacifist promise with Koenma, he would have gutted Lark like a fish for instigating another long-winded spiel. Korfius, of course, paid no heed.

"Why look for LeeAnne? Well, even though her parents weren't against it, she postponed our engagement, you see."

Oh, for Enma's sake. This idiot was mad at a teenage girl for not wanting to marry him outright. What an idiot...

"Well, uh, considering you're both not much older than me, I can kinda see her viewpoint..." Lark sweatdropped, but tried to keep a smile. Brown hair flying as he shook his head, Korfius sighed. "No, no, it's not like that. She had actually chided me for not proposing to her, earlier. But once she had chosen to work at Castle Lain she suddenly became very withdrawn from the other villagers, all except for her little sister whom was never really fond of me, or anyone else for that matter."

Although he was fairly sure his poker face was set, he could almost feel his eyebrow rise. _This fool is afraid of a young child?_

_Shut up, you. LeeAnne and her little sister might just be the thorn in our side that will help us find Holly and the others._

_I can find them, no problem. My jagan, you wench. If you want, you can play flashlight-tag in the woods with glow-boy, but its better to solve this without outside help._

"Is there, urm, _anything_ else? Like, what she might be doing?" Behind her back, she crossed her fingers. Luck seemed to be with her, for Korfius seemed to get the gist of the shared mental gripe of both the fire demon and water manipulator, that he sweatdropped and tried his best to answer without going off on another tangent. "Well, if I had my say-"

"Which you've had enough of, by all means," Hiei muttered.

"She was rather adamant about escaping the castle, by any means. Which was kind of the entire reason I was there to begin with..."

A shrill whinny cut through the air, and the fog itself seemed to die away, but not before turning a sickly glowing orange color. Like he was on a TV with poor reception, Korfius' form seemed to shiver and turn a grayish hue before springing back to life. Mara shuddered from her perch, and buried her face in Lark's hair, her tail nearly cutting off the blood flow to Hiei's arm it was so tight.

Opening her squeezed-shut eyes and unblocking her ears, Lark pointed a wayward finger in the general direction of the ghastly cry - straight ahead of them. "Did you say by any means possible..?"

The wind seemed to make more noise than they, as it gently rustled leaves by their ankles and played with their hair. Then, Korfius paled (even more, surprisingly) and started running through the forest, flitting out of view and reappearing every few fractions of a second. "Damn it all!"

Hiei and Lark shared a baleful look and bounded off after the ghost, one taking to the canopy of trees and the other to the hidden trail.

* * *

:twitches: I will... update... soon. Nyagh... o Just let me recover from this current brainlapse, and I'll get right to work on the next chapter...

...In which we meet the **real** LeeAnne, the pooka comes into play, the group is fully reunited and finally enters the castle, and there is a hidden room with many sharp pointy objects.

Uhhh... yeeaaaahhhhhh... Too lazy to do reviewer replies, so KKC-chan shall make do with small talk. .;;

So, how's the pope, eh?

...Mmmyep... I better just shut up and write chapter 18 now. Excuse me while I go suffer from massive brain hemorrhaging.


	18. Black Storm Rising

Quote of the Week: "You do not need your book anymore than I need my pants." -Nicki

Not surprisingly, I don't have an excuse. But I do start driving lessons this Wednesday. The world is doomed... Yeeeeeesssssss...

* * *

Her sides were torn, thorns and brambles... she swore that the plants grew in her way just to spite her. Hiei had taken to the trees, where it didn't slice your skin and leave drops of blood on the branches as you ran past. And Korfius, the glowing ghost he was, faded in and out as he hurried to the screaming whinny. What he was hoping to find, who could tell?

_Stupid, stupid, stupid... I should have never have said anything. Besides, who would be dumb enough to ride a dangerous animal?_

A image popped into her head, of light sea-green scales and strong wings; folds of skin and scales, the scent of smoke and fire, and claws that could have gored an elephant with the smallest twitch. _Cecilia... duh. I'm being a hypocrite, now. _

Then, that mighty creature being slammed into the earth, wings torn and claws split and cracked, ocean-hued skin marred by sticky blood. A clear cover moved over milky eyes, sightless to begin with, cleaning the dust and shrapnel off of the eye's surface before turning an opaque blue as the head dropped to the snow with a loud "fwumph". There was a last shudder, and blood spouted out of her ripped jugular vein.

_Pay attention! _Hiei barked sharply at her, and Lark managed to snap out of it fast enough to just barely skirt by a tree that had inexplicably interrupted her path (she didn't care if said tree had first sprouted well before her time; it was still it's fault). Nasty things, those trees were. All plants, in fact. If only the forest, with it's planned-planted rows and invisible floor, would just end already.

She ran through a particularly dense patch of fog, and felt herself trip. Forcing her teeth shut so as not to bite her tongue or lip, Lark threw her hands in front of her, expecting to grab onto the trunk of a tree that couldn't possible be more than two feet away.

There was nothing and she hit dirt, coughing and cradling her scraped wrists as she sat up on her knees. The fog faded, slightly, and her gray-blue eyes widened at the sudden change in scenery. A field, of sorts, was spread before her, and rocks lined the edge of a river.

It was all swaying grasses and flowers, as far as the dreary weather would allow her to see. As she gaped, there was a soft thud and a blur of black zigzag past from behind her: Hiei.

The rocks started as pebbles as her feet, and as Lark walked closer to the river's edge, she found it harder and harder to avoid treading upon the sharp rocks as they seemed to get larger with every footstep. Soon, she just gave up on keeping to the formerly soft grasses and springy ground, and hopped from stone to stone, finally catching herself and coming to a halt at the serrated-knife-sharp edge of a particular boulder that jutted out from the water at a good six feet. Barely visible beneath the murky shallows were even more, smaller, rocks; harmless in appearance, Lark guessed that if they were anything like the stone path she had crossed, the thorn bushes would seem like a mere tickle. She was in no mood to split her head open; not now, with no one to help and no way home.

There was a flash of black over the river, which stretched across the field by at least a couple hundred yards and disappeared around the bend, hidden by trees. That selfsame flash was soon by the water manipulator's side, looking at the sharp edges of the boulders with feigned interest.

"Find anything?"

"Hn."

Lark sighed, but knew better. After the field, it was as if Korfius has simply ceased to exist. No sign of him, no screaming whinnies, just the quiet stillness as the gently flowing river lapped against the sides of it's razor-edge banks. Carefully, cautiously, the black-haired girl sat down, hugging her knees to her chest. A soft breeze passed by, playing with Mara's mane, and throwing Lark's hair in her face and making her shiver. About to complain about the chill, she shut her mouth and glanced over at Hiei. The demon was just barely tolerating her now; if she whined about something as mundane as a little wind when they're guide had just suddenly gone missing, she doubted she would be aided much longer by him.

The fog parted but for a second, and Lark blinked twice, scrambling from her seat of stone. Nudging Hiei with her toe, she stood up and squinted at the figure upon the opposite bank A feminine figure, red-brown hair not much longer than her shoulder blades, and the same tanned skin that she was so used to seeing every day.

"Holly? Holly!" Lark jumped up, slipping and almost gashing open the hand she had thrown out for balance, and waved a hand wildly. "Holly!"

No answer from the young woman, and Lark's eyebrow twitched. It was Holly, for sure... Now, if the witch was just ignoring her to annoy her, ooh... that girl had another thing coming...

"Quiet. Something's wrong." Hiei, unmoving, a stone statue in his own right, focused all three eyes on the rogue figure. Lark gave the demon a stare, and continued to struggle to keep her footing. Three words; quite the explanation for Hiei. With a snort, she crossed her arms, her hair flipping over her shoulder. "Are you an idiot? Who else would be wandering around out here?"

Holly raised a hand and brought it to her lips, letting a shrill whistle pierce the air. The smooth glassy river surface rippled and broke, and two small almond-shaped ears peaked out.

Lark, as usual, stared; from her side, she was sure she saw Hiei's eyebrows furrow. No faint smirk of satisfaction? No sign of recognition from Mara? The dragonling hadn't even called out to the young woman that had appeared to be Holly.

Another whistle, this one a lower key, below the first by nearly an entire octave. Almond ears erect, the animal began its watery trek towards the shore. The water parted effortlessly, and, slowly, hoof after hoof moved the water creature forwards at a dejected plodding motion. A strong, proud neck, which Lark imagined was usually held high, was held level with the equally strong back. The horse was black, with fur soft like velvet, and an equally ebon mane that lay in haphazard wet straggles along the neck.

Wrapped around the neck, dull and dead, almost as much as the dark eyes and ragged breathing, was a thick chain, flopped over the horse's back and dragging in the dirt. The animal walked up to the young woman, gently rubbing a soft muzzle into the open palm, lips reaching for the tiny treat that Lark suspected the stranger had brought for it.

Hiei didn't bat an eye at the creature. "Pooka," he stated, and Lark blinked in amazement. "That's a _pooka_? That nag?"

"No, it's anything but a nag. Domestic, it seems, but..." The demon's eyebrow rose. "Clever act."

"Eh, wha? Hey, you, lemme in on it!"

Hiei made a low grunt in his throat, a sign that Lark took for her to be silent, and she crouched down. "No. Tell me." One red eye rolled lazily at her, the other focused on the young woman that was now weaving her fingers into the night-black mane and bracing herself to pull herself onto the pooka's back, and she steadfastly held her ground. There was a soft snort from the demon, but his hair bristled as Mara's wings shuddered. Before Lark could even wonder what was going on, the air over the river distorted and shimmered, before taking the familiar glowing form of Korfius.

A very upset and scared Korfius.

"LeeAnne! What are you doing?" He shouted, flickering over to the young woman; his legs seemed to be moving as if he were running, but his feet never made contact with the ground, and the picture was continually fading out, making the entire scene seem like it was an antique movie. Specks and lines cut through the fading figure of Korfius, the ghost coming ever closer to the shore towards LeeAnne and the pooka.

With a blast of sulfurous air, all tranquility left the horse; yellow eyes blazed to life, and the neck arched elegantly. The black tail, once hanging dejected, was raised and flying like a banner, the mane equally lively from the amount of energy pouring off the animal. No more the gentile pet, the horse spun, the dull iron chain moving on its own like a flaming snake, rearing on it's back while its fore hooves sliced through the air.

As Mara buried her face in his hair and Lark hid her eyes behind her hands, Hiei recalled hearing from Kurama a peculiar fact: that ghosts were imprints of a memory. Rarely were they a complete spirit, and the imprint was only left behind until any unfinished business could be taken car of, or, in some cases, the imprint was proven that it was dead. There were stories of ghosts all over, who haunted their earthly anchors night after night, at the same time, the story never changing, like they were the actors in some sick and twisted play. But they would never have a memory of the night before; for them, the night before had never existed.

As the hooves struck the ghostly image of Korfius, the boy rushing forwards to shove LeeAnne out of the way, ebon cutting through the faint glow and evacuating the boy's brains from his skull, Hiei felt a slight moment of remorse. The pooka snorted, squealed, roared out its challenge, fire and sulfur rolling off its breath and enveloping the mauled corpse of their former guide.

At that moment, he hoped that the attack had been just as painless as his own; that it was equivalent to the tickle Korfius had felt when the youkai had launched his katana into the boy's gut.

There was a shrill scream -- that of the young woman, LeeAnne, and the pooka looked over at her, the thick iron chain whipping about its neck. She scuttled back, pulled herself against a tree, now afraid of the same animal that had treated her so tenderly before. But the black horse paid her no mind and bared yellowish ivory teeth at the corpse at its feet. The scream was fading, disappearing along with the young woman whose mouth it came from.

With a blast of fiery breath, the ghostly body was incinerated, all to repeat everything the next night. And the next... and the night thereafter... until the world ended. When the curtain closed for the hapless Korfius and LeeAnne, it would come crashing down and wipe out the audience as well. With a thrown back snort, the pooka whirled around and galloped away into the river, the water washing away the faint residue of blood as the vicious horse traveled upstream through the fog.

All was left in quivering silence, and Hiei gingerly reached up to stroke Mara's mane. The little dragon was trembling, making small chirping noises and her muzzle tickled his scalp. At Hiei's touch, however, she made one loud "meep!" and pulled her head out of his hair, looking wildly around, the smell of sulfur thick in her nostrils. She would live, but...

"Lark?" He shifted his attention to the human girl by his side, not at all surprised at what greeted his vision. The girl - although not a shrieking, screaming, crying mess that was the norm for any _normal_ person - was quiet. Deathly quiet. Something that unnerved him more than any hysterics ever could. Crying could be stopped, but what was there to stop that empty stare and the cold realization that was undoubtedly growing in the pit of her stomach? Nothing that he could offer.

"Meeaah?" Mara gracefully glided over, her tail curled around Hiei's arm like some sort of lifeline, and landed on Lark's black-haired head. "Meeeeaaah!" The dragonling chirped and whistled, tugged on hair with her tiny claws, and finally snapped the water manipulator with a well-placed nip on the ear.

"Aie! Mara, outta there!" She was annoyed, but didn't swat at the white dragon. Instead, she grabbed the serpentine body, and embraced the youngster in a squeezing hug; Mara didn't bother to struggle, letting her body go limp and nuzzling Lark's temple as the girl buried her face in the feathery mane.

Hiei, not exactly what one could call the "huggy" type, gave them a few seconds, then coughed. "We should follow the pooka. It's heading towards the others, and they seem to be following the river."

"I bet that river connects to the castle. An unending water supply."

"Yes, well, you'll need to let go of Mara."

Lark cradled the dragonling to her chest. "My security blanket."

Hiei raised an eyebrow, but hopped next to her onto the boulder, then moved from stone to stone along the riverbank. Lark just stared, but Mara, now stably latched onto her shoulder, nudged Lark's cheek and chirruped. It took little for the meaning of the dragon's chirp to sink in; Hiei was traveling slowly, and would leave them behind if they didn't follow soon.

Shoving Korfius, LeeAnne, and the pooka to the back of her mind, where it could be sorted and cried over afterwards, Lark once again put on her backpack and made her way along the river.

And sulfur still hung in the air.

* * *

Watching the guards from among the bushes, carefully hidden from views, Kurama wondered why the armed men were starting to get nervous. They muttered amongst themselves, throwing glances towards the water, hands steady on their uniform halberds.

"Kurama, man, something bad is coming." Kuwabara tapped the fox on the shoulder, and Kurama nodded in agreement. "Yes. The outer guards aren't too happy, either."

"Well, it is cold out, and with those skirts..." The carrot-top grinned at his attempt at a joke, but Kurama sighed. The skirt versus kilt joke was running stale. "Kuwabara, please, focus more on your awareness than the guard uniforms."

"Spoilsport." was the reply. Then, as if a spark had just struck, Kuwabara's eyes widened and he dropped to the dirt next to Kurama, dragging the fox down with him. Before the fox could question his motives, however, there was a shrill scream and a large black body rocketed over their heads. A metal chain of sorts lashed at the bushes they hid under, breaking branches, tearing leaves. Once the black beast had charged ahead, leaping headfirst into the water of the moat, both redheads looked at the damage that had been done to their hiding place.

If either of them had even been crouching, their heads could had been cracked open, or worse, punted across the moat.

"Hey, uh, in case you were wondering, that was that bad thing I sensed."

"Thank you, Kuwabara." Kurama seemed genuine about his spared life, and gave the human a smile. "So, think we should perhaps follow it?"

* * *

It hadn't taken much effort to follow the pooka. The creature, on a mad rampage of its own, had kept to the river, thrashing the water and dislodging hundreds of small rocks in its wake. And the smell... Mara had picked up on it no problem and, with no small amount of coaxing by Lark, had frustratingly led her two companions towards the creature.

Hiei had always kept her safe, had always comforted her when the day turned dark or when humans had tried to see if she was more than some large white bird. And now she was leading him to a cruel, guiltless, powerful monster.

Was this how he wanted her to thank him?

"Mara, what's wrong?" Lark asked, gently teasing her fingers into the soft mane along the dragon's neck. The white dragonling chirred, blue eyes half-closed, and gave the girl's fingers a small nip. As harmless as the action had been, Lark still drew her hand away lightning-fast, and stared at the winged creature in confusion.

"Leave her; she'll be alright." Hiei stood on a thin branch above their heads, arms crossed. Mara looked up, surprised at the sudden arrival of her surrogate mother, and perked her head. Rustling her wings, the white dragon turned her head back, seemingly grooming the white fluff along her spine, and chirped happily. Of the act, however, Lark wasn't convinced.

"Hiei, we could follow the pooka without using Mara's nose. She's young, tired, scared."

"She's fine."

Mara looked up at Hiei, "meep"-ed in reply, and bobbed her head happily. Fine... yes, she would be fine.

* * *

With all that had been going on - in their case, a whole lot of nothing - Yusuke almost imagined that their own little band of merry men had been forgotten.

But, he also had to count in the fact that the partnerships between Hiei, Kurama, Kuwabara, and Lark were no doubt holding them behind. The four of them were split pretty radically; Lark and Kuwabara loud and obnoxious, Hiei and the fox quiet and withdrawn. Hiei and Kurama were more than able fighters, able to take down almost anything that was thrown at them.

The other two? We-ell... Because, you know, those demons were sure afraid of cold water and humans. Oh, yes...

Those two would have been good as dead.

"Yusuke, stop dallying and help out!" Kyuro snapped at the spirit detective, and Yusuke sighed. He usually didn't mind playing the leader, but he had, rightfully, felt that the familiar deserved to lead the search.

Now, fighting off a small group of rather pathetic-looking creatures, each of them no more than eighteen inches in height, he was wondering just why he had decided to follow a cat. The time for thinking was cut short, however, as a particularly ugly beastie lunged at his face, the little goblin's features twisted into some sort of battle cry.

There was a faint "_splat!_", and the little creep slowly slid down to the ground, as if he had hit a glass wall. Yusuke spared a glance over, and grinned as Lyra smiled and gave a thumbs-up. Another quick-draw kekkai barrier; Erika would have been proud of the older Admarant sister. The other foot-and-a-half high goblins backed away and stared at their fallen companion, then back up to their formerly helpless target.

Formerly helpless. Now he had a good-sized bulk of spirit energy stored up in the palm of his hand. Three or four of them glanced at each other, muttering amongst themselves and nudging each other in the ribs with their elbows. Some were pushed forwards, as if dared to take the human on. With one look into those fiery brown eyes, that devilish grin, the blue energy crackling from knuckle to knuckle, all former ferocity was forgotten and they scattered, screaming as they searched for a hiding place up in the trees.

"Nice job, Urameshi." Jin nodded at the effects of Yusuke's intimidation tactics, tossing one last goblin-esque creature away into the trees, then surveyed his other friends. Victoria had dealt with the intruders effectively and quickly, while Kyuro had sheltered it out on the older man's shoulder. A few knocked-out creeps surrounded Lyra, breathing deeply, a few snoring. On his knees next to the water manipulator was Hanabi, staring at one of the sleeping creatures with wide eyes; when the boy poked one of the goblins with a long stick, making sure it wasn't faking slumber, Jin fought down a snort. Timid as always, Hanabi was...

"Well, if that takes care of all of them..." Victoria dusted off his sleeve, and recovered his bag from a low branch. Originally, the attackers had meant to steal their food, their belongings, anything shiny -- they had not been expected a fight of any kind, and had reacted sluggishly. "I doubt there's much else around that's much more dangerous than them. At least, until we find that castle," Lyra stated, gently taking the stick that Hanabi had been using to poke the unconscious bodies.

His source of amusement now taken away, Hanabi shook his head, white-blond hair flying into his eyes. "For a giant building made of rock, you'd think it'd be easier to find."

"Maybe if we hadn't decided to follow the riivveeerrrr..." Kyuro sneered at the wind master and possessed boy, green eyes mere slits. "We could've been there by now."

"Hey, it's a castle. Castles have moats. It makes sense to me," Yusuke said, nudging a goblin onto it's side with the toe of his sneakers. At that, Kyuro sniffed. "Of course... castles, and moats. Goes along right as rain." Yusuke was about to nod at this, but the cat continued talking. "Next thing you know, there'll be a moat-monster you expect us to sacrifice a young woman to."

"Hey! I never-"

Everyone fell silent at the heavy pounding and heart-jarring scream. The rhythmic pounding became louder, closer, and closer. Nothing had to be said, and all of them quietly and quickly moved behind some bit of shrubbery or foliage to hide. Now, not only was there the constant thudding, but also the splashing of water, heavy breathing, and the musical clinking of chain links. Suddenly, all fell silent for a moment, and Lyra went to stand up, but Victoria yanked her back.

Water playfully lapped at the muddy riverbank, but was unexpectedly splashed against the shore. Forming ribbons of crystal-clear moonlight that disintegrated into droplets, the river water was torn asunder as a black body raced through. Fierce yellow eyes, a thick chain whipping around like some weapon, and the scent of sulfur in the air.

It was there for a moment, then gone all too soon. No sooner had they noticed it as a living, breathing thing, then it had disappeared upstream. The six shared looks, then crawled out from the brush.

"There's your moat monster," Hanabi dryly stated.

* * *

Eyes glued to the castle ramparts, the fox and human ran as they followed the edge of the moat. So far, there was no way to get around. Neither wanted to take a chance with the creature underneath its surface. At first, it resembled a horse in shape, but what animal would lunge into the water and purposely sink to the bottom in a suicide attempt; it went against all instinct.

Unless it knew it would survive down there. And if it was, in fact, still alive, what would keep it from suddenly attacking them? Although he was an excellent strategist, Kurama, and Kuwabara as well, both knew that they were near helpless in the water. Plants, in need of a carefully balanced environment when growing, would be drowned, and keeping afloat would make fighting back night impossible. What to do, what to do...

Then, it was as if Enma had decided to answer his prayers. The guards, nervous and stressed enough without the crazed animal outside their front door, had sent someone to scout ahead. Slowly, oh so slowly, the portcullis was opened just enough for the lightly armored guard to slip under, and the sacrificial lamb stepped out and onto the narrow drawbridge.

The drawbridge design was quite ingenious, Kurama noted. Not designed to keep the enemy out altogether, it was simply wide enough for only one or two opponents to file in at a time. Travel, one by one, into a courtyard where archers shot down on them from above.

It was then, with a wave of water and black furred flesh, that the horse-creature from earlier lunged out, and buried its teeth into the guard's collarbone. Blood mixed with murky river water, and hooves scrabbled for a footing on the slick wood. Then, head raised proudly, the dead young man dangling from its mouth like a dead bird retrieved by a dog. Hastily, the portcullis was being lowered, and the guards behind the iron gate were rushing to close and bolt the rest of the doors.

They never got the chance, as the horse, the chain around its neck cherry-red and hissing in the damp air, reared up halfway and slammed its front hooves into the drawbridge. The fire that escaped from its open mouth was bluish-white, and easily melted through the metal portcullis. More screaming from inside, not orders this time, but of pain. Even now, the two intruders to this ritual could imagine as the wooden doors heated and burned the hands of those who struggled to close them.

The doors were already coated in tar and charred black to provide extra fireproofing, and didn't immediately burst into flames; instead, they slowly licked the edges of the wood, creating a shifting wall of red and orange. Once the screaming reached a fever pitch, and all the guards had escaped from the skin-melting wood, the black horse merely snorted and bent its neck down to drink from the moat before trotting through, nudging the wooden doors with its sides so that they swung open.

With a shared nod, Kurama and Kuwabara waited until the smell of sulfur had faded before following into the castle. Inside, the smell wasn't much better; the scent of fire and gas had been replaced with stinking, burning flesh and hair.

"Cee-ripes..." Kuwabara cautiously picked his way around the bodies, but suddenly halted. Kurama saw an arm, the flesh sickly black and smoking, lift and grasp the hem of Kuwabara's pants leg. There was a slight tug from the arm before it went limp, but the orange-haired boy still had to kneel down and unlatch the denim out of the dead man's hand. As if on a second thought, before standing up, he gently closed the corpse's eyelids.

"Perhaps we should wait for Yusuke and the others," Kurama murmured. Even now, he could imagine how they would react to the carnage. And, whether or not they believed the fact that a more vicious creature had cut through before them, it would be safer to get everyone caught up before charging in.

"If we wait, we wait outside." Already, Kuwabara was judging the distance from the drawbridge, to their current location, to the blown-in doors leading to the castle's main hall. Who was to say that he, never mind anyone, would want to walk that corpse-ridden distance again? But, then again, there was still the dead scout out on the drawbridge, his bones broken and himself with his head and one arm submerged in the cold water.

* * *

"LeeAnne?" The little girl yawned, getting to her feet unsteadily before padding over to the witch. Attention wavering from the window, Holly looked back at the youngster. "Mornin' kiddo."

"The sun's not up yet," The blonde replied with a deadpan voice. Holly shrugged, but willed the smile to stay on her face. "It's after midnight. Therefore, its in the AM and morning."

The little girl stood by Holly, worming her dirty hand into that of the older girl's, and sleepily stared out at the lavender-blue sky. From outside, a bird softly chirped until a hoot from an owl silenced the little songbird.

"LeeAnne..? LeeAnne!" Holly blinked and jerked back to reality, raising an eyebrow at the child who was nearly yanking her arm off. One glance at the scared and pale face, and the hazel-eyed witch switched gears from annoyance to worry. "What is it?"

Nothing needed to be said, as the black smoke slowly floated into the sky, clouding up the otherwise clear morning air; faintly, she could smell something horrible, something that wasn't at all unlike the thing that had taken her just a few nights ago.

_Spindly fingers, almost as thin as the worn ropes that were tied around the large body..._

"LeeAnne, we can't stay here long. The pooka..!"

_Slashes along the wrists, with nothing but bone underneath the skin. Thick, matted, bloodstained fur..._

"LeeAnne!" For such a young girl, she jerked Holly's arm so hard and quickly, that the witch was sure she felt something, a muscle or tendon of some sort, stretch. She squinted her eyes at the sharp pain, and tried to massage the feeling of fire and needles out of her shoulder. "Okay, okay... we'll get going. Know any way outta here?"

"Usually, It comes for us, or has the guards let us out."

A load of good _that_ did... But she fought back a sigh. "Could we get the attention of one of the guards? Get them to unlock the door?"

"They will. And then I guess we'll be moved where It can protect us." The child chewed the bottom of her lip, and stared at the broken angel in the stained glass window. Then, the uncertainty in her blue eyes hardened to suspicion. "LeeAnne," she asked, pointing out the window, "What is that?"

Holly stared at the spot where her fellow prisoner was pointing, but had to blink twice before it registered in her brain. A red fuzzy blob stood out against the thick black smoke and pastel sky; one that came closer and closer with every passing second.

Jin.

* * *

"Funny, really, how we ran into you in a place like this," Victoria cheerfully stated, hopping over a smoking corpse. He was the only one, save for Kyuro, that didn't turn away from the sight, or gag from the stench. Just like anything else, the young man just tossed the conflict over his shoulder. To be dealt with another time, in a more convenient place.

Kyuro, high atop Victoria's shoulders, peered about with bright green eyes. "So, this is where they were keeping her?"

"Minus the dead people, of course," the older witch commented. False joy, as per what the occasion called for.

Lyra, her face hidden behind the collar of the jacket Kurama had graciously offered her, shut her eyes. Whether it was the smell or sight, who could tell? "Let's move on, please."

"We should wait for Hiei, though." The group looked at Hanabi, unusually outspoken for the carnage that surrounded them. He shrugged, white hair falling into his face. "If we need to return home quickly, it would be easier if we were all in the same place." At this, Kurama nodded. "A valid point, but..." With a wry grin, the fox waved a hand at the scenery. "I doubt he'll miss us-"

"Myyuuuu!" Mara alighted on the fox's outstretched arm, tucking and folding oversized white wings close to her body. Yusuke and Victoria both blinked at the sudden arrival. While the dragonling groomed her fluffy mane, the taller man muttered, "That was fast..."

But, as they peered out the front gates, there wasn't a soul. Already fed up with the waste of time, Yusuke stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried his best not to sulk. "Alright, we'll vote. Who's for waiting?"

Three hands; Hanabi, Kuwabara, and Kurama.

"And for moving on ahead, regardless of anything that tries to kill us?"

Two hands and a paw: Kyuro, Yusuke, and Victoria. Noticing that a hand was missing, Kurama turned to the elder Admarant sister. "Are you alright?"

"No... not here. We should-" She was cut short by Yusuke, who was silently mulling over the fact that "Majority rules" wasn't going to cut it in the current situation.

"This is a pain; unless..." All eyes turned to the black-haired girl, who groaned and tried to hide amidst Kurama's overly large jacket. Victoria, arms crossed, tried not to look so impatient with the gentlest out of the group.

"It's alright, Lyra. Yay or nay, that's it. Quick and painless." The deeper, male voice made Lyra blink. It was a rare occurrence when the crossdresser didn't try to hide his real voice. Kyuro, unmoved, grumbled at the slowed progress.

"It had better be 'yay' or there will be pain." The comment ended in a hiss as Victoria sighed in exasperation and flicked the cat's ear. Thus chided, the familiar instead turned his frustration towards the slender water manipulator, whom seemed more than a bit worse for all the pressure.

Then, timidly, she choked out, "Let's go on ahead." Kurama, surprised, fought back the urge to stare at the non-violent girl. Kuwabara, however, was desperate to make one last barter.

"Rock-Paper-Scissors for it? Best two outta three?"

"Dipshit!" With that, Yusuke grabbed the taller punk in a headlock and marched towards the front gates.

But for all the bravado, he was scared.

* * *

They walked in silence. Understandable, as there was nothing to say. Yet... yet there was everything. Would they make it? Was Holly even alive? If they made it back home, would anything really change?

Would they ever make it back home?

"Kurama... You ever think that maybe we don't have a choice in what we do?" Lyra asked, out of the blue. From her side, the redhead blinked. Twice surprised, in ten minutes. He stared at the back of his comrades, and thought about the question. Lyra hadn't even looked at him when she said it, and was still focusing on some spot in midair, completely oblivious to their surroundings.

Normally, he would have gently mentioned her lack of attention; they were guarding the back for a specific reason. Although Yusuke might've had more firepower, and Victoria was frightening in his own right, neither one was as adept at creating a puzzling distraction as the kitsune and water manipulator.

"We have a choice; that's obvious..."

"And in a situation like this? We have no idea where we are, Holly is basically a hostage that could be used against us, and that monster-thing from before..."

So, she had sent he pooka, too. Thinking back, it was probably what led Yusuke and Co. to the castle. He had heard that Jin had taken off sometime after the pooka had charged through, and hadn't been heard from, since. As always, they managed to get separated.

"I will admit - the cards are stacked against us. But even the smallest choices can affect how you'll follow the path that's laid out."

"So you do believe in fate and destiny?" She had shepherded him, fenced him in, before he could find the loophole. Always a challenge...

"Some things are fate." He made a motion for her to stop, as they had entered a large open room. The hall gently sloped outwards from the doorway, and a large pentacle, the five-pointed figure inside a larger circle, was made of inlaid reddish stone in the dull gray floor. With shared nods, the group split in two, with Hanabi joining Kurama and Lyra, and made their way around the pentacle; even Mara had flown in a slight circle around the center of the floor. At least, everyone was wary except Yusuke, who strutted right across it. Looking over at his other companions, all who gave the image in the floor a wide berth, he raised his eyebrows.

"Guys, what's wrong? It's just a crappy decorating job. Geez..."

Kurama was certain that Kuwabara, at least, could sense the chills that the pentacle gave. Not quite willing to pass it off as a case of the willies, he nodded towards Lyra and Hanabi, who caught on easily enough.

Stay away from the big, creepy, blood red symbol placed suspiciously in the middle of the floor.

Even after Yusuke had made it across safely, the feeling of dread didn't cease. Only now uncertainty was added to the mix as Kuwabara was once again singled to dowse out the correct doorway, the one that would bring them right to Holly's door.

"Hey, guys!" black hair tied in a loose ponytail, Lark came running into the room, a black shadow quickly appearing behind her before fading to the edges of the room. Kurama could visibly see Lyra relax with a sigh of relief, and smiled slightly. Nearly everyone was accounted for, now...

"You guys haven't heard what's really going on around here, have ya? I managed to find out how to scare of that thing that kidnapped Holly!"

Then, perhaps too tired to care the least about instinct, Lark stepped out into the dead center of the pentacle that graced the middle of the room. As if triggering a chain reaction, the little light that managed to make it through the high-up windows was cut off with a sharp _thwack_! as the dark walnut shutters slammed shut.

The pentacle glowed a faint rusty red, and then disappeared. It was as if the floor beneath her had suddenly been vaporized, and there was a sickening moment where the girl seemed to hang in thin air. There wasn't even time to scream as she plummeted down, barely enough time to react as Lyra lunged out for her younger sister and Kurama tackled her, pulling her close to him as they just managed to come to a stop right at the edge of what used to be solid stone.

But now, it was a pit. Deep and dark, filled by the scent of dead flesh and blood rising from its depths, with the most wicked collection of rusty spikes, each varying in height from five feet to nine, impaling the still air. As Lyra choked back a small gasping sob, her face buried in the fox's jacket, Kurama calmly noted the human skull balanced precariously on the tip of one such spike, the tip stabbing right through the cranial case by means of the eye socket.

And thus, was fate.

* * *

Don't you love those twisty little turns that show up and kick ya in the balls (provided you have them. If not, substitute a liver or spleen) and throw you completely off track? 15 pages or so, folks, to make up for not updating as often. . But I'll have all the time over summer vacation... oh, yeeesssssss... 


	19. Hazy Shade of Winter

_"This you must know!  
__From one make ten  
__And two let go,  
__Take three again,  
__Then you'll be rich!  
__The four you fix.  
__From five and six,  
__Thus says the witch,  
__Make seven and eight;  
__That does the trick.  
__And nine is one,  
__And ten is none.  
__That is the witch's arithmetic_"

-Witch's Kitchen, from Faust, by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

* * *

God... it was cold. So cold... and wet.

But, as she sat up in the snow and wrapped her arms around herself in a futile attempt to warm up, she supposed it was better than getting impaled.

The snow continued to fall, already starting to fill in the imprint her body had made; fine white flakes drifting in the black night sky. Her breath came out in white puffy clouds, and Lark planted one hand in the stingingly cold snow bank as she struggled to her feet. Her sneakers, once helpful when it came to running or long-distance walking, were soaked through, and her bag was nothing more than a vague snow-covered lump in the snow.

Moving as though her limbs were made of wood, the black-haired girl clambered through the snow and unearthed the backpack, then put it on her shoulders. She had no idea where she was, but she would have to find someplace warm. And soon.

She looked heavenwards, but the snowflakes were indiscernible from the stars. With a sigh of exasperation, she turned around and started her journey up the gently sloping snowscape. It didn't take more than a minute, however, for her to spot a light.

No, scratch one light. There had to be at least six or seven... from a building. A two-storied building. Blue-gray eyes widening, she nearly yelled in happiness and made a mad dash for the faint beacon of hope. The building loomed closer and closer; it was small in appearance, and a bare tree, icicles like ice spears hanging from the branches, was planted in the front yard. Icicles also lined the roof overhang, and the empty flower boxes; frost covered the window glass, but a warm yellow light still shone through, making golden-yellow squares of color in the snow.

But what made her stop short, despite the hot shower and clean clothes the house would provide, was the color of the siding. Purple.

And that tree... she recognized it, the way some of the branches were thin enough to be fairly new growth - from not much longer than a few months ago. The shutters were the same, as was the tree that stretched up to the attic-bedroom's balcony. Even now, she could hear the ocean as it smashed against the cliff walls -- the same cliff that formed the boundaries of the back yard.

Her bag fell from her shoulder, making a small explosion of white, icy, debris.

As if in a trance, she walked forwards, her feet dragging through the snow, and rang the doorbell of her own home. There was complete silence, and she was about to ring it again when the front door opened and a young man, taller than her, dressed in jeans and a white undershirt, and not paying attention as he towel-dried his blond hair, leaned in the doorframe.

"Look, Christmas is over, okay? Leave."

"Hey."

Although his face was hidden under the damp towel, she could see his body go stiff, and the towel slipped, so that his wide green eyes stared at her.

* * *

"Frickin' hell, Lark..." Rogerik leaned against the kitchen counter, glass of ice water in hand. Musing over what he had just been told, he noisily crunched the ice cubes from his drink. "And how long did it take for all this to..." He searched for the right word, one hand absently waving in the air. "Happen..?"

Seated at the kitchen table, enrobed, squaw-like, in the fleece blanket that the thief had dug up for her, cross-legged with a steaming mug of hot cocoa gripped in her hands, was Lark. Her hair was still damp from the snow, once a powdering of tiny ice crystals suspended by black wires of hair, now melted into a series of water droplets. She was nearly curled around the hot drink in her hands, and had buried her face in the soft, canary yellow fabric of the blanket.

But, even so, she looked exactly like she had the day she had left.

"One night, not even," was the muffled reply. She scrunched into an even tighter ball, and slowly raised the mug to her lips. "Not wanting to change the subject, but what've you been up to?"

Rogerik sighed, tapping his bare feet on the linoleum floor. "I finished some jobs for Koenma. A few of them were top-gig, but lately they've been getting smaller and smaller. I'm starting to think Reikai is giving up on Givanni. There've been more important issues, really."

At this, the mug was slammed on the kitchen table, and Lark was flailing her arms wildly, enough to yank off the blanket, as she tried to emphasize her words. "More important? Givanni tried to..! The school! T-the big monster-y dead things!" Seeing the look in Rogerik's face, she slowly quieted, but did not become calm, the blanket slowly falling around her knees. The blond sighed, and took a sip of water.

"Since their spirit detective has been missing for a good three months, now, Reikai has to find a replacement for Yusuke."

To tell the truth, he hadn't seen the attack. After so long, without both sisters around to bend the very water to their will, he had entirely forgotten what Lark was able to do. Staring at his now-empty glass, Rogerik watched water drip from his brow and hair onto the kitchen floor. Lark, now standing, where the water had risen as she had, had her fists clenched.

"Three months..." The way she stated it, it was as if the fact hadn't really settled in. As if it was a new word that she was trying to learn; slow and unsteady at first, but her mind was quickly wrapping itself around the term. "Three months..? Is that how long? But... it was only a few hours!"

"Three months, here." He held up three fingers, as if to prove his point, and wiped his face with a dry dishtowel. "There's some other news, too. Rachel moved into her office, to keep better track of the things going on around campus." Rogerik fought back a chuckle as the black-haired girl stared at the French-glass doors that served as the bedroom for the two chaperones of the dorm.

"And some -ahem- new neighbors-" The thief was shoved out of the way as Lark, minus the fleece blanket, stormed by. Arching his back slightly, to avoid his spine from being slammed entirely into the counter's edge, he regained his balance and focused on the younger girl as she sprinted up the staircase. She was used to the normal run of dorm roomies. Once a student graduated, was expelled, or moved to another dorm, their room would soon be filled with another.

Setting the glass down on the counter, he ran up the stairs after her. "Lark, get back here!" With the tantei gone, the purple cottage had gone back to its original purpose: housing some of the more difficult students. The kind that he went out of his way to avoid on a regular basis.

"Shut up, you!"

He whipped around the corner, catching himself as Lark placed one hand on the doorknob of what had been her room, and threw the door open.

All that remained of her old room were the gauzy window curtains. The two beds that had taken up each side of the room, the nightstand, the computer desk and wooden chest that had been at the foot of Holly's bed... it had all been replaced. Now, a bare mattress, Full-sized, was in the middle of the floor, pushed up to the wall opposite the window. Magazines and loose papers were strewn about, constantly moving as the breeze from the open window ebbed and flowed like the tide. A number of posters, ranging from half-naked women to musicians and band members dressed in black with garish piercings, covered the once-blue walls. Propped in the corner, the only physically clean spot in the room, as if it was its own little shrine, was a guitar made of honey-colored wood and red fiberglass, set securely in a stand.

Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Turning on her heel, she slammed the bedroom door that had been hers, once upon a time ago, and kicked open the tantei's old door.

The room had two beds, like hers had, but the walls had been painted black. Obscure symbols, like something that she was sure could only be found in a book worshipping the darker, more chaotic, powers of existence, were scrawled onto the bedroom walls in sickly yellow-green chalk. In the middle of the floor, nine candles formed the tips of a nine-pointed star, drawn out by pouring salt into a design. More candles, too, lined the bookshelves, red wax dribbled down the windowsill, and Lark heard the crunch of something fragile beneath her as she accidentally trod upon a discarded matchbook.

"What is this? What happened?" She rounded on Rogerik as soon as he dared poke his head into the room. He cringed, and carefully entered the room, keeping one eye on the shadowy corners of the room at all times. "New roomies?" He suggested. Then, squatting down, he picked up the half-empty container of salt, shut and rolled away only to bump into a wastebasket, and stared at the label. "Normally, this room is pretty well protected. I guess "guardian spirits" don't like generic-brand table salt."

"I'm serious!" She swiped the salt from Rogerik's hands, and the thief quickly stabilized himself, balancing on the balls of his feet. "Hey, I'm serious, too. You're lucky you didn't get hurt coming in here."

Lark gave him a look, one that reminded the boy of a spider staring down the fly caught in its web, and he braced himself for a kick to the ribs. Instead of the easy blow, however, the floor's vibrations told him she had moved on. Blinking rather widely, he hurriedly stood up. In all the years he had known her, Lark rarely missed the chance to react violently to something that upset her.

Looking back out into the hall, nervous as if some ghoul would come up from behind and attack him, he suddenly saw why Lark had left so quickly. She was fumbling with a pair of keys, trying to fit the slight brass key into the keyhole of the lock on Lyra's door. Quietly, he came up from behind her, and pulled his own key from his jeans' pocket. Turning the door, which swung open, he gestured towards the carpeted staircase. "Go on ahead."

If there was one miracle, one wish that she would have given anything to see, her sister's room was it. The fact that it had been locked was reassuring. If anything could be fixed, then it was bound to start from the gentle girl's own abode.

The paper cranes, brightly colored bits of origami that were strung up to the ceiling in columns, shifted with a faint rustle as she came up the stairs. The same knickknacks hung from the ceiling, the bed still had the same comforter on it, the dolphin rug on the floor at the top of the staircase was untouched. Some things, insignificant details, were different; the beaded curtain that had acted as a barrier between the two rooms of the third floor was knotted and pulled over to one side, replaced by a single bed sheet tacked to the top of the doorframe. The little stack of books on the nightstand was disheveled, and the digital clock was tipped over on its side.

Tiny things, but things that Lark knew her sister would never just leave as was.

"Wha..?"

"I had to use her room as storage, too keep them away from a lot of your stuff. Pretty much all of Yusuke, Kuwabara, Jin, Kurama, and Hiei's things are in that corner over there, by the stereo." And, sure enough, the bags were there, in one jumbled pile. Obviously, when moving, he either hadn't taken much time or care, or he hadn't had much warning beforehand.

"Quueeeeeeek!" Salvatore seemed to come to life with one look at the younger girl, and clambered down from the top perch in his cage. Hopping up to the cage sides, he bobbed his head up and down, making a racket and banging an empty toilet paper roll on the cage floor. The paper on the floor of the cage wasn't as clean as Lyra normally kept it, but it had at least been changed within the past few days.

"I take it my stuff is in the other room?" Lark pointed towards the sheet-covered doorway, getting the nod she expected. "Then who sleeps up here?"

"Well, uh..." The thief sweatdropped, and scratched the back of his head. "Heh, you noticed?"

"There's white hair on the pillows." And indeed there was, as Lark plucked one from the pillowcase and held it accusingly in front of Rogerik's face. "Are you sure you've been using this room only for storage?"

"Hey! What're you getting at! Besides, Salvatore here can vouch for me," he said with mock hurt, flourishing a hand at the lovebird. The peach-faced parrot stared at the hand for a moment, before letting out a garbled growl and sticking his head into the toilet paper tube.

"Real motivating account," she muttered. Lark circled around, taking in the way the moonlight shone through the glass of the balcony doors, how soft the carpet was underfoot; every little bit of information she could. Three months, and the room still seemed as if Lyra had been sleeping in her bed just the night before.

She blinked, and crept down on her hands and knees, looking under the bed. "Rogerik, did you hear that?"

"No... but maybe you should find some other pair of jeans to go rummaging around in."

This time, the blow hit, and he merely cringed as the younger girl's foot struck his shin. Well, he had been asking for that, but still...

Lark continued to pull things out from under the bed, piling them next to her. A boxed paint set, a tin of colored pencils, an unmarked shoebox, a large pad of watercolor paper, various headphone sets and a discman, and, for some reason, a tennis racket also joined the collection (what was up with the tennis racket, he had no idea. As far as he knew, neither sister took up any type of sport). Now she was up to her shoulder, stretching to pull out things from under the bed, when a soft growl made her stop.

It wasn't by any means intimidating, not like when a rattlesnake warned potential predators about its venom, but it came from a nervous animal. Nervousness and aggression could go hand in hand, especially if said animal was under enough stress. Slowly, she withdrew her hand, but the growling little creature followed, fur bristling.

Both humans backed away from the bed, able to see the glowing eyes clearly from the fox's hiding spot; the bottlebrush tail was held stiffly, and small white fangs were bared. At the sight of the tiny fox, however, Rogerik sighed. "I told her not to leave Momi here alone."

"Leave who? Wha?"

The tiny fox slunk back under the bed, fur still standing on-end, as they spoke. It cocked one ear, seeming to listen to something behind it, and Lark saw the tiny wristwatch that was thrown on the headboard shelf. The digital clock on the nightstand changed its red numbers to 11:45, and a faint little jingle sounded from the wristwatch. At the alarm, the fox rushed out, too fast to be dodged or blocked, and jumped up onto Lark's lap before vaulting over her head.

"Ack!" Her arms were thrown up, and she felt slowly growing pain as the fox's claws scraped her arms during it's mad rush. Lark winced, tried to crawl to her feet anyways, but was promptly forced to sit back down on her knees as Rogerik gently grabbed her arms and inspected the raw red lines that were already appearing on her fairly pale skin.

"Momi belongs to the kid who sleeps up here. A pretty uptight furball, too." He raised an eyebrow at the scratches, and curiously poked a particularly red wound. "Don't move; I'll get some band-aids and junk from the bathroom."

"Who names their pet 'Momi?'" But, as the thief had asked, Lark sat still and watched Momi stare at the closed bedroom door at the foot of the stairs, the fox's tail waving gently. Momi yipped, and stood up on her hind legs to scratch at the door, which creaked open as a pale face framed with whitish-silver hair peered into the room. From atop the head, fox ears twitched, and Lark suddenly found herself looking into the golden eyes of the preteen kitsune.

The ears, which seemed too large for the kitsune girl, twitched once again before she disappeared from view.

"Hey, guys! There's a new girl here!" The yell echoed throughout the hall, and Lark sweatdropped. Coming in from the other half of Lyra's bedroom, armed with a box of band-aids, cottonballs, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, Rogerik rolled his eyes.

"Ruin the surprise, why don'cha, Embyr?"

* * *

She didn't like these "new kids". No, not at all...

She supposed that Giacomo could be a nice guy -- the aura that he had wasn't cruel or evil, to say the least, which was a definite comparison to his glaring brown eyes. He was slight, scrawny, and even shorter and more fragile-looking than Rogerik, with his dun-brown hair in a bowl cut, and dressed in shorts and a sweatshirt that seemed to big for him. It was the other one, however, that bugged her the most.

Normally, she wouldn't consider herself "aggressive", per say (although everyone else seemed to disagree with her on that fact), but the girl who lounged on the couch in front of her - snapping her gum, blue eyes heavily outlined in dark purple eye shadow, with her cherry-red hair tied in a nest of braids - was a regular Medusa. This gorgon, this beast that had her long pointed nails curled possessively around Rogerik's around arm as he tried to civilly introduce Lark to them, wore nothing much more than was necessary to look "decent". A gauzy half-open blouse, ultra-short and ripped skirt, and chunky high-heeled leather boots that wrapped around her legs until just below the knees.

An antique pocket watch hung around her neck on a shining, new, gold chain. A faint symbol still smoldered on it's cover, as she smirked gleefully.

Her name was Prudence.

* * *

Heya! Well, new format-thingy for how I've set up these author notes for chapter 19. Wondering if you guys like the drabbling before or after the chapter. Speaking of which, I should reply to reviewers, but... :ponders: I could do that in my livejournal. The linky-thingy to said livejournal should be in my bio, so check it out if you're wondering why I'm taking so long to update or if I have other fic ideas in mind, folks.

But, you're still all mad at me for "killing" Lark last chappie, aren't you:smirk:


	20. Changes

Quote of the Week: "Forget killing my brother... I get to be a boyfriend!" - Kia (commenting on a horribly OOC Naruto fic. Sasuke/OC. . )

Would've updated sooner, but was being a bugger and not letting me log on. x.x

Hey, totally random, I know, but... You remember Giacomo from last chapter, yeeesss? That name was totally picked on a whim at the last second (to tell the truth, I wasn't in the mood for an eastern name); I was actually pondering over whether to name him something boring, like Bob. No kidding.

But, hey, guess who won the Derby a week or two ago?

Giacomo, the horse. XD

* * *

"Hey, Lark! Get back here!" He snatched the corner of the wall with one hand, swinging around just in time to see the water manipulator halt outside her former bedroom door. She seemed to think for a moment, and Rogerik breathed a sigh of relief; finally, perhaps she would calm down and try to be rational!

His relief was short-lived as she bashed the door inwards with a surprisingly strong kick.

"No, don't! You idiot, do you know how pissed he's gonna be!" Rogerik lunged forwards, but his face met the wooden barrier full-force. In a futile attempt, he wedged his foot and shoulder into the gap of the door, hoping to prevent Lark from locking it behind her. But, and this he realized to late, a locked door was the least of his worries.

"Oh, someone else that I haven't met yet? I can understand letting Embyr stay in my sister's room - she's just a scared kid - but who else are you hiding here?"

"Hiding? Lark, they're assigned to this dorm! You were, I was, and so was everyone else that lived here!" He managed to grope around the inside of the room and hit the light switch; the posters and magazine-strewn floor were instantly illuminated by the warm muted light bulb. But, in the artificial light, he could see the bags under Lark's eyes even more clearly.

And the sphere of water in her hands was also all the more obvious.

"**Up _yours_, you jackass!"**

Water and sheer reiki combined was enough to force him away from the door, and the thief fell back onto his rear, water once again dripping from his nose and chin. From below, Giacomo tossed a fresh white towel up, where it hung itself on the blond's head. "You might need that," the smaller boy deadpanned, his voice quiet and raspy. Rogerik coughed and spluttered, but wiped the water out of his face. "Yeah...thanks."

* * *

She curled up on the larger bed, tail tucked neatly around her bare feet. There was a soft thwump, and a small orange-furred fox slunk over the covers to curl up at her side; the creature was content to just lie silently, just as curled up as his master, at first. But Embyr wasn't usually this withdrawn when she was in this room. The thief had promised them a safe place to rest, away from Prudence and her horrible-smelling perfumes and oils, away from all the candles that constantly dripped hot wax onto the floor.

Momi twitched his ear and lifted his head, trying to get a better view of Embyr's face. The fox girl had hidden her features half behind a sheet of white hair, and half buried in the pillow. All of her was scrunched up in a ball, constantly trying to make herself smaller, except for her ears -- they twitched and moved at every sound, seeming to almost be radar of a sort. With as best an exasperated sigh that the fox could muster, he crawled forwards, closer to the child's head, and buried his muzzle until her hair until he could lick her nose and cheek.

At the tiny growled whimper that came from the girl, and the smell of scented oil in her snowy hair, the familiar put the pieces together. Prudence. Or another girl. It wasn't the new girl, the one that had baited him out from under the bed earlier, of that he was sure -- that girl smelled like fog and rain and snow. This scent overpowered his sensitive nostrils, so sickeningly sweet that he was hard-pressed to pick out the smell of flowers among the rest of the chemicals. Humans... with their weaker noses, they had to use obnoxious concentrations of the perfume and soaps to even get a whiff at what nearly threatened to burn out the fox's nose in an overpowering aroma.

From the corner, the lovebird whistled and chirped, comfortable on his perch, one leg tucked up into his bright green feathers. Momi cocked a head at the bird's message, then sprawled out in the tiny nook of Embyr's arms, ignoring the desire to squirm free as the slender child's hands clutched to his fur. There was a whistling click of approval from the parrot in the corner, and the fox resisted the urge to snap back with a quick snarl to the feathered pest. Tell him how to take care of his human...the stupid git of a bird.

"Momi..." Embyr spoke calmly, not at all like the other times when she had retreated from the outside world like this. Those times, she had been crying, or trying to hold in the tears. But although her voice was steady, her nails threatened to dig themselves into her palms. "Prudence and Lark... they're going to cause a lot of trouble, aren't they?"

Momi remained silent, unable to reply. Not only from his lack of a physical speaking ability, but from the sheer fact that there was really nothing to say, either. Lark and Prudence, cause trouble? No, really?

That stupid thief, Rogerik. He had a knack for inviting trouble wherever he went. The fox had heard of Lark before, eavesdropping on the thief and the water rat, Koryu, one night. She was a hot ticket... but Prudence was different. She could be cruel. Whoever got in her way had to pay a hefty price.

After all, it had only taken one night for the water rat to disappear after it had talked down to the girl.

With slitted eyes, the fox familiar glanced at the digital clock on the bedpost. On the display were the numbers 1:14 in light-up red. No wonder why Embyr had just collapsed on the bed like she had... tutoring wasn't all that and a bag of chips. The fact that she was so young never made the job any easier, especially when tutoring teens in her grade group; as such, it wasn't hard to imagine that some of her clients were less than amiable.

A quiet knock came from the door, but Embyr didn't even stir, until she heard the voice that followed.

"Embyr? Do you, uh, mind if I come up?"

No reply from his kitsune master, but the door below swung open anyways. Momi moved closer to the white-haired girl as the newcomer softly padded up the carpeted stairs and across to the bed. Just as quietly as an owl swooping down on it's prey, the older girl sat on the edge of the bed and gently laid a hand on Embyr's shoulder.

He stayed still, muscles tense and fur bristled, until the red numbers on the clock changed again, marking another minute. Lost. Wasted...

"You okay, kiddo? Eh?" The black-haired girl softly pushed Embyr's shoulder, gray-blue eyes worried. Despite his normally gentle demeanor, the fox familiar growled in the back of his throat, but that growl was cut short as the young girl by his side, sat up, stared at the new girl with bloodshot eyes, and then clasped onto Lark's arm. Surprised, the snarl faded from his lips and his fur relaxed along his back, once again a smooth and shiny pelt.

"L-Lark... I...I..." The fox girl gave up on words, her grip beginning to loosen. With a faked sigh of exasperation, Lark rolled her eyes and gently patted the younger student on the back. "Rough night, Embyr?"

A silent nod.

"How about you just chill. Wanna watch a movie?"

More silence, even when Momi pushed his cold nose into the fox girl's open palm. He shared a look with Lark, which would have been an amusing moment indeed, if only the object of their worries wasn't on the verge of complete gloom. Prying Embyr off of her arm, Lark slid off the bed and began to shuffle around in a corner of the room that held a moderately-sized TV and stacks of boxes.

"Tell you what? I'll find the Rocky Horror Picture show and you tell me what's on your mind?"

Embyr nodded, quietly, but Momi growled at the mention of the title. Lark made a face. "Fine, fine... I'll get something that's not R-rated..." Triumphantly, she held up a tape and read the label. "How about... Amele?"

* * *

Wind sifted the strewn papers on the floor, and the window curtains tickled the back of his neck. He wasn't pleased... oh, no. Someone had been in here, even going so far as to damage the doorknob, as he noticed upon closer inspection. Growling and running a hand through his orange hair, the boy made a quick visual inspection on the rest of his bedroom. Nothing was touched, save for his bed. Whoever had broken in had had themselves a little pity-party, evident by the still-damp spots on the covers. The sheets were rumpled, and the impression of a face was still faintly evident on the pillow.

There were slight amounts of reiki in the spots on his bed, so weak in concentration it was like pinpointing a tear in a puddle. Still, he sensed it, and the fact that it was there in the first place annoyed him to no end.

Personal space. That was all he had asked for. Just that no one come into his room.

Two months, and already that promise his roommates had held to was broken. Then again, they were humans, after all -- save the youngest, the fox-girl. He hadn't expected too much.

He was upset, yes... nearly enough to slam the door open out of anger. But he opened the door quietly and calmly walked down the hall, past the stairs, and just as silently opened the door leading to the third-floor bedroom. Down on the first floor, he guessed that the others now knew he was here; better for them, he figured, as they could now get out of the way. Let him take the blame... again.

From what he could tell of the tiny ki droplets, the person who had cried them onto his pillow was in the usually locked bedroom. He slid, noiselessly, over the rug, maneuvering around boxes and furniture with ease. His target sat on the floor in front of the TV, leaning against the bed footboard and reaching for her glass of water every so often as people paraded across the television screen, talking in French as subtitles popped up in the bottom of the picture. She never noticed him, never looked behind her, never even shivered from the sudden feeling that something very, very dangerous was behind her.

He raised one hand, fingers bent so that they nearly resembled gnarled claws, over his head and took another step, this time garnering more than just the stranger's head and hand from over the footboard. Sprawled on the floor, head in the strange girl's lap, with her white tail curled around her to conserve heat, was Embyr -- fast asleep.

He misstepped, then. Took a slightly larger gasp of air and let the muscles in his raised arm and hand relax as he saw the younger demon, defenseless and altogether giving off the sense of perfect innocence. She raised a small hand to her face, wiped away some imaginary irritant that floated about her eyebrow, and buried her face deeper into the older girl's lap.

Finally noticing something was amiss (or perhaps she had been aware from the very beginning and had just stayed stoicly ignorant of the situation), the black-haired teen focused one blue-gray eye on the young man behind her. He was taller, slightly, than she had remembered him, from seeing him that one time, and his hair seemed to be even more of a mess. But, one thing that couldn't be mistaken were those eyes.

"Hey, Ayame."

Ayame lowered his hand completely, his orange bangs falling into his red eyes. "You're lucky she's here," he stated, jerking his chin at the ten-year-old fox. Lark patted Embyr's head affectionately, and turned her attention back to the TV screen. "You wanna stay for the end? Watching Amele."

"I hate subtitles." Nevertheless, he sat down cross-legged on the bed.

* * *

Four seconds to notice Ayame had returned to their abode, one second to realize he was angry, and another two seconds to figure out why. Four seconds to run up the stairs and catch himself on the second-floor landing, cursing the fire manipulator all the while. One second to throw open the door and lunge up the carpeted stairs. His foot caught the edge of the fifth step. He fell, caught himself. His other foot slipped and he nearly slid down a step. Crawled up. Got to feet and leapt forwards.

_Too late!_

Ayame was sitting on the bed, unmoving. His breathing was even undetectable, but Rogerik had grown used to it, living with the stoic teen for the last few months. If anything, no matter how much Prudence clung to him or Giacomo caused uneasiness to stir in his gut, Ayame was always a calm controlled presence. Before, the teen had been unpredictable, aggressive, overly competitive and ready to fight anything.

He saw a slender hand reach out at take the glass of water that was visible around the footboard, and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God Ayame had mellowed out over the summer...

"Rogerik, you okay? You look like someone died." Lark's arm waved to him from behind the footboard, and he managed to catch a bit of her reflection in the tiny mirror plates that decorated the base of a music box near the television. He remembered that particular knick-knack on the shelf above Lyra's computer desk and, sure enough, there was an empty space among the various seashells and other little trinkets. So she had moved it... had noticed Ayame before he could physically express his anger.

Embyr was curled by her side, and Lark lifted the remote, stopping the video and hitting the rewind button just as the black and white credits started rolling. "Can you do me a favor and hit the light? Not too bright -- don't wanna wake Embyr-chan up." As the thief dazedly pushed up the sliding light switch, the water manipulator struggled to slide herself out from under the younger girl. It would have been much easier, if Embyr hadn't started to move, clutching onto Lark's jeans as the black-haired girl tried to move.

With one fluid movement, without so much as disturbing the depression he had left in the bedcover, Ayame scooped up the fox girl in his arms and carefully deposited her in the bed once Rogerik had flung back a corner of the covers. As Ayame tucked the girl in with unusual tenderness, Lark slowly stretched her legs, getting the blood flowing back into them. Finally getting to her feet, she pointed at Rogerik. "You."

"Uh, yeah, me..?" He pointed at himself, waiting for Lark to get out the rest of her sentence. She blinked her gray-blue eyes, which were tired from reading tiny subtitles in the dark at three in the morning, and swayed on her feet. "I wanna talk to you in the back room for a minute." She turned the thief around on her way to the connected third-floor room, and guided him through the tacked-up sheet. Once her blond roommate was all the way through, she popped her head back through the doorway.

"Ayame, can you, uh... go somewhere else or something?" She asked, as the taller boy merely blinked red eyes at her and shrugged. Giving Embyr one last pat on the head, he turned and walked mechanically towards the stairs. Lark gave an affirmative nod and turned back to the curtained-off room, not bothering to make sure the orange-haired fire manipulator really left the room or not.

So stay he did, crouched upon the stairs and ducking just out of view. Although he couldn't see a thing, save for the faint outline of the balcony doors and the shadowy expanse of blue carpet, the conversation in the other room was clear as a bell, even with the hushed tones that Lark and Rogerik were using.

"How could you let that witch take the watch? That's our lifeline!"

"Well, she didn't take it, exactly..."

"So you _gave_ it to her? Idiot!"

"I didn't give it to her because I wanted to!"

For a moment, silence reigned. Then...

"...You have just totally disregarded the literal term of 'give'."

"Listen, why she has it is totally irrelevant right now. Let's just get it back, okay?"

"And once we do, what's to say it won't end up with her again! I was gone for five hours, and in that time my home is reassigned to some other nitwits, Rachel moves out, Erika is probably on the brink of having a heart attack because of all the crap that's been going on, and three months pass. Three!"

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"And did I forget to mention that **_Prudence has the watch!_**"

Embyr shifted in her sleep. There was a scuffle from behind the beads, and all that could be heard were a few muffled angry shouts. The fire controller smirked, and shifted position, intending to sneak down the stairs as soon as possible, and faster than any human could hope, thanks to his demonic blood. But first... first he wanted to know how this "exchange" would turn out.

"You suck."

"But we're gonna get the watch," Rogerik said, perhaps a bit too lighthearted for the situation. Their silhouettes were all that was visible through the doorway, and he slowly traveled down the stairs as the clacking of the plastic beads signaled the two teen's emergence from the room. "By now, Prudence has probably stepped up the security of her room."

Lark snorted. "Look at you; you're a thief. Security is your specialty."

"Traps and devices. Not guard dogs," he muttered. A squawk of a complaint issued from the white-wire cage of Atauro, and both teens hissed a "Quiet!" at the covered cage. "Just wait until tomorrow morning before you go snooping around Pru's room." There was a annoyed grumbled from Lark, but she seated herself on the rug. "Yeah, whatever. Just toss me that pillow."

The fluffy projectile soared through the air in a graceful arc, and Lark caught it. Fluffing it, she dragged an extra blanket from the foot of her sister's bed down, and made herself comfortable. "'Night, Rogerik."

The thief paused, as Ayame ducked out of the doorway as soon as he came into view of the staircase, but the demon was gone before he could hear the reply. Keeping an ear out, he slid along the hallway wall; however, he wasn't quite as aware of the rest of surroundings as usual. Still facing the doorway to the third-floor bedroom, his back bumped into someone. Someone small, scrawny, and weak enough to yelp an "ow!" from the collision.

Not that Ayame would ever have expected Giacomo to be on the second floor. The boy was scared of Prudence and, as such, spent most of his time either in the basement or, more rarely, on the first floor. Now, in his over-sized clothes, the mouse of a boy stared hotly at the demon with his brown eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" He snarled, slowly getting to his knees. With one red-eyes look, the fierce expression that Giacomo wore crumpled.

"You better get downstairs, human." The orange-haired teenager of a demon stared as the smaller roommate scrambled for the stairs. If the brown-haired boy had bothered to even stand up as he made his mad dash, Ayame suspected his knees would be shaking. With a snort, he turned and headed for his room, acting as if the entire event had never taken place. Besides, although he didn't plan on going to classes the next day, he still wanted to get a full night's sleep.

"Ayame... w-what happened between those two?" He paused, lazily focused on the human, and leaned against the wall with a shrug. What was it with the general lack of fear, tonight? "None of our business. Now git."

Shoulders slumped, Giacomo trudged down the staircase. Ayame stared, watching him go with a slight smirk. But it didn't take long for the smirk to fade. The kid was an annoying rat to Ayame, yes, but it couldn't hurt to tell him anything. When he first tried to talk, it came out as a cough, but the demon caught himself as the human turned to look over his shoulder. "Prudence is just going to get her dues, is all. The new girl is gonna make sure of that."

As Giacomo's face lit up and the undernourished boy nearly skipped down the rest of the stairs, Ayame retreated to his room. There went his good deed for the day...

* * *

He didn't realize how tired he was until he nearly stumbled down the basement stairs. With a moan, he flumped down on his bed, burying his face in the pillow. What he wouldn't give for things to be simpler...

_If Lark hadn't come... _he hated to admit it, but the thought appealed to him. If she hadn't shown up out of the blue, he would've been able to just move on and have memories to look back on fondly. Reikai would take care of Givanni. Prudence would eventually leave him the hell alone. There would be no angry reunions or discord in the house.

But, for the last three months, all he had wanted was for them to come back. The tantei, Jin, Holly, the sisters... they had all become a family for him. With them around, he didn't have to worry about Gomo or anyone else, really. After "defeating" a giant zombie dragon, people tended to give you extra space.

Then again, if it weren't for Yusuke, Lark, and co., the giant zombie dragon would never have existed to begin with.

Thoughts mixed, swirled, with memories. Random images, moments that had gone by years ago, opinions -- all one typhoon of useless noise and visions. Twisted into a dream, a nightmare. He lived in a world that no human could ever have imagined. A world no normal person would even dare to think of, for fear it would drag them in. A place full of so many miracles and wonders and horrors that it never let you go.

Conscious thought became dream, dreams were reality, reality was a bitch... it was a vicious cycle. A cycle that continued to confuse and irritate him long after he fell asleep.

Giacomo had stayed quiet, curled under the sheets of his bed, until the erratic breathing of the older boy in the bed across from his had grown steadily slower. The noise and muttering had been enough to wake him up. Normally the blond was silent at night, to the point the room seemed to echo.

Carefully, slowly, the mouse-haired boy tossed off the covers and swung his feet down. Rogerik had fallen asleep without even bothering to change his clothes, without even so much as throwing a blanket on. Technically, he wasn't supposed to use his abilities unless his target gave permission, but the curiosity was gnawing at him. He wasn't the type that, once he found out a little bit of information about a topic, was willing to let that subject be. No... He drained every possible source of information, whether the topic interested him or not.

The possible eradication of Prudence. That interested him very, _very_, much.

With a tentative hand, he ran his fingers over the sleeve of Rogerik's shirt. Quick and soft enough to make the entire thing seem like an illusion. He had never done this before to any of his roommates, only once to his cousin. That was before he had been enrolled at the academy, so that he might learn to control it.

As soon as his fingers touched the fabric, his eyes widened, and he fought the urge to clutch onto the thief's shirt.

_Interesting... interesting indeed..._ Rogerik's life, so far, had proven to be attention grabbing. Some people, the memories that they had were so common. He wasn't looking for the earliest remembered birthday, sibling rivalries, or everyday life. He had enough of that -- there were millions with the same experiences, although they didn't know it.

The blond's latest thoughts were reading out almost like glimpses of an action or fantasy novel. And if this was only a normal human..! Mentally, Giacomo made a note to peer into the lives of some of his more demonic classmates.

He hadn't learned a thing, really; but one thing he did gain was the new girl's latest ambition: steal back the antique watch Prudence had been tinkering with. There was only a sense of importance around the task; no back-story, nothing specific. Just one look, though, was enough to send his mind reeling as he stalked back to his bed.

And all that night, he dreamed of riding a large dragon taking off above burning ruins of a building.

* * *

Cookies to whoever guesses Giacomo's ability! And... stuff... >.>

This little arc is wrapping up in three chapters. I swear. X.x I still wanna do the little April vacation excursion (focusing on the Aurata twins! Yay!) and I need to take care of Hanabi and his "voices"... and Givanni... :headdesk: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuughh! One the bright side, school is ending. More time to type. MCAS is dead. Finals are... almost dead? x.x Gah! I don't care, anymore! I just want to get this done!

Hey, remember last year around this time, when I was up to chapter 30-something..? ;.;


	21. The Things You Miss

Quote of the Week: "Normal? Of course I'm normal! Right? Riiight..!" -Colleen

Sorry 'bout the long wait. Personal issues and school finals kinda got me a little less than... elevated, you could say. nonetheless, I am going to go doubletime once school lets out. Ohhh yesss...

* * *

"Queek! Queek! Quuuuuueee--eeeeeeeek!" 

"Shut the hell up!" The pillow bounced off the bird cage, and the bright green lovebird inside jumped to the other side of the cage with a shriek. With a groggy groan, she sat up and numbly stared at the uncovered wire cage that stood against the wall, the sheet draped over plastic bags of multi-colored bird pellets at the cage's feet. Salvatore, although easily scared into silence with the first barrage, hopped back down to the cage floor and cocked a head at Lark, peering at her with one black eye.

He squawked, ran around in a little circle, then returned to staring at her again as she struggled to her knees and dumbly disentangled the blankets from around her ankles. Leaning up against the footboard for support, the younger Admarant sister got to her feet and stared at the room around her.

Embyr had made the bed before she left, and Momi was nowhere to be seen. The music box that had been placed by the TV the night before was now back up on its shelf, while the DVD case to Amele had been placed on the top of the television. Most notably, and this she realized only when a breeze stirred the curtains enough so that an errant beam nearly blinded her, it was sunny.

"Wh-what t-time..?" She fought back a yawn and focused her bleary vision on the clock by the side of the bed. Nearly half-past nine in the morning, and she had dozed off some time around three-thirty am.

All of last night was a big blur. Everything was mixed and hazy, with no real order. One minute, in her mind, she was out in the middle of the woods with Korfius. Next, the iron portcullis that had led to the courtyard of dead bodies suddenly brought her to the front door of her dorm, then busting open her old bedroom suddenly made her get sucked up into a void, moments before a rusty spike impaled itself in her skull.

But one thing stuck out in her mind above all else: that rusty broken watch hanging around that girl's neck, fastened with an absurdly expensive and shiny chain to be used for such a horrible "pendant". And that watch... she was going to get it back today, even if it killed her. She doubted much time could have passed if those few hours in the wet and dreary other world had evened out to three months in her usual time, but she couldn't really afford to guess. The particulars of time and space were way beyond even some of the most advanced physics students and teachers at the academy, never mind her. She had a hard enough time figuring out the washing machine and dryer.

"Lark, would you like to throw anything in the load of laundry I'm tossing in?" The request was spoken at the same time the soft knock was made, and she almost didn't hear Giacomo's raspy voice. _Speaking of which..._ she picked at her own jeans and shirt, then saw the slight muddy imprint in the rug her body had made. There were extra clothes up here in her sister's room, and a full bathroom. Why not take advantage of it?

"Yeah, sure. Lemme toss them down!" Within seconds, the muddy, torn, dirty clothes were in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, and she had wrapped the blanket she had slept with (it was still warm from her body heat) squaw-like around her. The thin hand snagged the shirt and jeans, and she heard the soft click of the door as she stepped into the bathroom. She might've even had heard the quieter reply from Giacomo if Salvatore hadn't chose that moment to make a scarily accurate wolf whistle (which she was sure the parrot didn't know before they had left). With a scathing glare at the bird (who was happily splashing fresh water over his green feathers), she closed the bathroom door behind her and ran the bathwater.

* * *

He turned the knob of the washing machine, then dumped in the basket as the tank was filling with water. Grabbing the economy-sized bottle of laundry detergent, he poured the viscous blue liquid into the cap and then slopped it in with the dirty clothes. The water turned off, the machine already full, and he stared pensively at the muddy hem of Lark's jeans, which were poking out, tantalizingly, among the laundry. 

He wanted to know what was going on. To the point he didn't care if he impeded on other's privacy. With a sideways glance and a quick reiki scan of the basement floor, the small boy cautiously reached out and ran a finger over the rough denim.

Dark. Foggy. A black shadow flew above him, and in front glided a glowing person. Trees turned to meadow, then grass to stone and, eventually, water. The water rippled from the current, forming the familiar v-shaped wake as something barely broke the surface. A black body rose to the surface, hair drifting in the current and almond-shaped ears. Sulfur burned his nostrils as he squeezed his eyes shut at the sensation, but one yellow eye etched itself on the inside of his eyelids. There was no escaping it.

"Hey, Giacomo."

He jumped, the lid of the washing machine slamming down on his fingers. With a yelped curse, the younger boy gently extracted his smashed fingers from the washer, and turned towards his roommate. "What, Rogerik?"

The blond yawned, scratched the back of his head, and cracked his neck. "What are you doing laundry so early in the morning for?" The brown-haired boy snickered, and the thief's eyes narrowed. "What's up with you?"

"Early, you say. It's almost ten."

"It's the weekend. Still early morning to me." With another yawn, Rogerik started to retreat back to the shared bedroom, the door creaking to a close behind him. Giacomo coughed, more or less in the blond's general direction, and the door quivered to a halt.

"I, uh, heard you were, uhm, confronting Pru." Giacomo averted his eyes to the floor, suddenly finding an escaped lint ball that had become much more amusing. Rogerik stared, eyebrow raised, before muttering to no one in particular, "Have no idea what you're talking about." Before the door shut, the brunette thought he heard "Go back to bed" from the thief. But there was no way he could sleep after what he had just seen. Not after seeing that yellow eye that had permanently indented itself in his memory.

With a wry grin, he kicked the detergent bottle on the way out of the laundry room. Things were starting to get interesting, now.

* * *

"Lark, this isn't really smart." Embyr sat on the steps to Lyra's bedroom, watching as the older girl cautiously approached Prudence's bedroom door. Prudence never really slept at night, but the fox girl knew that, even with Prudence in a deep sleep like in the morning, there would be no getting past the door. Those skimpy clothes and cherry-red hair were cover-ups, in a way. With such a unkempt appearance, Prudence wasn't taken seriously. As a serious student, no one thought to give her a second glance. 

"Ow! Damn!" her hand recoiled, the pale skin on her palm an angry red. A burn. With a little bit of spirit energy, Lark soothed the injury with cool water. "That hurts like hell."

Embyr nodded, her sympathy for the girl strong, although silent. She, herself, had been burned by the same lock seal Prudence used on the bedroom door. With a forlorn look to the silvery-white fox tail that curled around her legs (which one could notice had a sizeable chunk of fur shorter than the rest), she managed to sweatdrop. "No way you can get through that, unless you have Pru's permission."

"Permission?" Lark looked up, her burnt hand submerged in the sphere of water that floated in midair. The doorknob of the tantei's old bedroom still sizzled from the otherworldly heat and fire.

"Yeah. That seal automatically voids once you get physical permission from Prudence to go into her room. She set it up after she learned about Rogerik."

Lark frowned, her brows crinkling together, and nudged the door with her foot. No sooner had her slipper-clad appendage come in contact with the sealed-off door, then faint smoke started to rise from the sole of her slipper. Lark cursed and recoiled, hopping about on one foot and holding onto the wall for support as the slipper flew down the stairs. "Damn it again! Owww..." The water manipulator looked up at Embyr, who was trying her ultimate best to hide her giggles, and stuck out her tongue.

"Think it's funny, kiddo," Lark challenged. She slid down the wall, then let her legs sprawl as she slumped in defeat. "Have a go. It's all yours."

The fox girl stared dubiously at the door, then stepped up to examine it more closely. It was locked tight, alright; complex was an understatement. Pluckiing a stray hair that bent and tickled her face, she gently let the hair float towards the door. It burned on contact. Already, her mind was working away, piecing together the bindings and Lark's failed experiments. It would be hard to open, but doable.

"Lark," Embyr asked, noticing that the older girl didn't even bother to look up, "I'll try, but promise you won't laugh if I mess up?" Now Lark was paying strict attention to Embyr, and a distasteful look crossed her face; Embyr remembered that look, so common among jealous peers, and her tail unconsciously curled around her legs.

"What idiot would laugh? That thing is dangerous!" The black-haired water-manipulator pointed a finger at the door, her hand trembling with anger. "On a better note, take the door off its freaking hinges so we can beat that whore Pru over the head with it."

If said "whore" wasn't behind the door she was trying to dismantle, Embyr would've laughed out loud. However, the day wasn't growing any younger, and she could see the irate attitude Lark held for her most recent adversary. Whether it was the door or Prudence, all that mattered was the demolition of the seals -- pronto. Summoning up her youki, the fox girl slammed her palms against the door.

Lark jumped for Embyr, but stopped once she noticed the girl's hands weren't smoking or melting. Focusing, the water manipulator could just make out the faint outline of an aura shield that negated the burning sensation. The youki coursed out of Embyr's hands, into the wood, where it was absorbed into the door; already, the blazing cherry-red of the seals was being muted, until it finally became a pulsing fawn color. The white-haired girl gently turned the doorknob, and the door swung open harmlessly.

The room was dark, pitch-black because of the heavy blinds and curtains that covered the window, and both girls looked at each other expectantly, waiting for the other to go inside first. They stood that way for a full minute before Lark sighed and, a sphere of water in hand, slipped through the open door. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light, so she kept one hand on the wall to navigate her way around the tantei's old room.

Hissing. She whipped her head around, half-expecting one of those "guardian-spirits" Rogerik had mentioned, but only saw the stark white of Embyr's hair. One pale hand reached up to the kitsune's lips and the other hand pointed to the wall. Lark's eyes widened when she saw the faint, pulsing, glow of a complicated-looking symbol chalked yellow-green on the wall. She withdrew her hand, biting her lower lip as she nervously shied away from the wall, and the symbol slowly faded.

Lark sighed in relief and wound her way around the books, candles, and salt on the floor. Once or twice she had gone to put her foot down, only to have a symbol glow just below her foot's path, and had stepped out of the way. As she stood over Prudence's bed, she saw Embyr edging back towards the door, not out of fright, but to make sure no one would barge into the room while Lark went to take back the watch.

She stood over Prudence's bed, her hand hesitantly hovering over the gold chain that held the watch. The watch was tucked in comfortably by Prudence's neck, lodged between the pillow and her jugular. The distance between the watch and her hand closed, slowly, too slow... She was tempted to snap out and snag it before running out of the room. One second was all it would take...

Prudence grumbled, rolled over, and the watch slid from it's spot nestled by her neck to pinned below her shoulder blade. Lark jerked back, and furrowed her eyebrows. This wouldn't be easy at all... She was no stealth expert. She was more of a... a hit-'em-til-they-fall-and-run-away expert. No matter, though. She needed that watch. Once again she reached out.

Her hand contacted with something semi-solid, almost as though she was moving through water rather than air, and chills ran down her spine. She stepped back, almost knocking over a stack of books behind her. Salt flew up as she disturbed a pentagram, and the feeling of a thicker, heavier air surrounded her, crushing down on her lungs.

Lark tried to gasp out a plea for help, but no sound came out. She could see the tip of Embyr's tail twitching as the fox girl stood lookout outside the bedroom door, but even that was soon starting to turn dim. The pressure strengthened around her neck, pulling her head back as if she were a puppet, and she didn't resist. It was too difficult and bothersome to try.

As lackadaisical as she might have been, however, one thing made her break free of the spell and run for the door. The pressure took on a more definitive texture: hair. Strands and strands of hair, entangling her throat and ribcage. She didn't even want to see what the hair was from. All she could see when she ran out the door, shoving Embyr in front of her, was a coiled nest of hair and bone. As Lark struggled to slam the door shut, the strangling creature from inside rushed forwards.

The door shut, and a loose vertebra fell to the carpet in the hallway. As the two girls watched, the bone jumped to life and slid across the carpet towards the door, which was steadily becoming a fiery red again. The vertebra clacked against the bottom of the door persistently, until the door opened just enough for the small bone to slip through the entryway.

From inside came a soft chuckle, barely discernable at first, that rose in volume and pitch, finally erupting into a full cackle. The same type of cackle that made your blood curdle in your veins.

* * *

Michealangelo stared at the stack of test papers on the table, not really wanting to touch them at all, and sighed. Sliding out his chair, he stood up and brought his bowl to the sink. Pouring out the last of the tomato soup inside, he ran the water over it and rubbed at the insides a little with a sky-blue sponge. He looked out the overhead sink window, as if checking to see if anyone was watching -- not like people really came out into the woods during the current time of year. 

Satisfied that no one would see, he tossed the green ceramic bowl onto the small mountain of plates and silverware that rose from the other half of his sink. With a whistled tune, he strode out the front door, grabbing his jacket along the way, to check for mail. Technically, his golems would bring back anything that was in his mailbox in the man office, but he wanted to get out for a while. Even if getting out meant that he had to tromp through a foot or two of snow.

Damn, he couldn't wait until spring came around.

He found the trail out of the forest easily enough; although it wasn't shoveled, the snow was packed down from him walking up and down it so many times. In fact, today this was the third time he had gone to check his mail. Thinking about the absurdity of this, the necromancer pondered about maybe getting a computer in his little three-room abode. It would give him something to do besides correct papers on days like this.

The tall, leafless, trees often blocked most of the winter wind, but a particularly swift breeze wound it's way up the path and blew snow in his wind-burned face. The Laird tucked the bandanna that was hung around his neck up to his face and squinted his eyes; turning his shoulder to the wind, he summoned a bit of reiki - nothing more than a bubble, really - and the little winged golem glided out from the treetops.

The golem was small, only four inches long with a streamlined shape that resembled a NASA space shuttle and a ridiculously cartoonish cat face. To tell the truth, Michealangelo didn't even remember making this particular golem, and perhaps he didn't really want to. But for all its small stature, the clay creature showed surprising skill at fighting through the storm. With a spider web-thick thread of reiki attached to the golem, the necromancer followed his spaceship-cat along the trail.

Again, he hoped no one was watching him; it was one thing to travel around with an impressive and artistic golem. It was entirely another thing when the golem you were "walking" had the most idiotic little grin on it's face. A flock of sparrows, twittering, took to the air as he stepped onto the brick pathway that ran by the edge of the woods, momentarily clouding his vision with brown-and-cream wings. Unzipping the top of his jacket, the Laird whistled to the cat-faced golem, and the clay creature darted inside to settle snugly among the softer lining of his worn leather jacket.

The walk took only minutes, and he moved quickly despite the ice sheets covering most of the brickway path. The steps to the main building were coated in salt and sand, and frost encrusted the windows and wooden doors; the metal railing was likewise covered. As the sun reflected off of the snow and ice, the necromancer jogged up the steps and opened the human-sized door, a door inside the ten-foot tall main entrance, and stepped into the warmth of the offices. Unzipping his jacket completely, Michealangelo pulled down his bandanna facemask and shook the snow out from his black hair.

"Morning..." The greeting was mumbled as Ms. Hisagawa, wrapped in a Brazillian alpaca shawl, walked by him, an open manilla folder in hand. The necromancer waved a hand, but the mythical creatures teacher was too far-gone to notice. Another sigh, and, hand on his pockets, Michealangelo casually walked down the hall, glancing at the portraits on the walls.

He paused and stared at one section of wall, where a twenty-four-inch by thirty-six-inch square was a couple shades lighter than the rest of the wall. Givanni's portrait had been the first to go. It almost made him smile.

"Michealangelo! So, the bear emerges from it's cave?" Ryo, sitting at a couch in the office's front lobby, looked up at the necromancer, taking off the pair of reading glasses that had formerly been perched on his nose. The over stuffed couch nearly swallowed the elf, even as he sat on its very edge. Four two-foot-high stacks of test papers were on the coffee table in front of him, and the elf tucked the red pen that he was correcting with behind his ear. But, as the blonde latin teacher smiled and leaned back in the couch, Michealangelo grimly noticed Ryo's unusual choice in attire: black.

The elf was dressed all in black, and a black rosebud was pinned to his lapel. The necromancer forced a smile on his face. This happened every year, always on the same week. Once asked why he would wear all black for a week straight, Ryo had answered that it was an anniversary. The anniversary of a death, but for whom's death it was never told.

Faintly, however, Michealangelo remembered running into a portrait of Ryo with a wife and child. That would explain it...

"Do I look that bad..?" The necromancer tossed all thoughts of his co-worker's mourning out of his mind, and shot a glance at the mirror across the room. Looking at his reflection, showing a rough, middle-aged man with messy hair and a five o' clock shadow, he couldn't help but agree. "My friend, the women go for the rugged ruffian-type."

"I'm sure. But you've progressed to Old Man of the Mountain." The elf went back to correcting the paper in front of him, but blinked and turned back to Michealangelo. "You're not here to get your mail again, are you?"

"W-whatever gave you that idea?" He choked out, sweatdropping as he did so. Ryo chuckled, and marked the final grade on the mid-term exam in front of him, put it on top of a stack a bit off to the right, and grabbed another test from the stack on his left.

"If you're looking for something to do, then you could help me out with these." Once again, the reading glasses went on. At the look on the Laird's face, he chuckled again. "What's wrong? I have an extra answer key right here," he said, lifting the paper in question up into the air and waving it around a bit. Michealangelo coughed, and coughed, and walked past the front desk. "Yep... really should just get my mail and go... hm-mm..."

"You haven't even started correcting yet, have you?" The question almost made the necromancer stop, but Michealangelo willed himself to keep moving. Although, his eyebrow was twitching like mad. "My tests? Of course I have them done! In fact, I programmed some of my golems and they're checking them over for me."

"Wow." For once, Ryo looked genuinely impressed. "That's a first. Maybe you could lend some of those golems of yours out to the more artistically-challenged teachers like myself."

"Oh, look, more bills! Spam, bill, spam, credit card application, make-up essay, essay... test... essay... joke mail... spam..." He shuffled through the pile of mail that had been in his mailbox behind the front desk. Amazing that it had all been shoved in his box within the last hour. But, as he drew closer to the end of the list, one letter in particular earned a frown. It had no return address, was simply labeled to "Laird M." and was without any postage stamps. Tucking the envelopes into his jacket's inside pocket, his hand brushed against the golem from earlier, and he pulled it out, rubbing his thumb against the still cartoonish face.

"Hey, Ryo, you still want one of those golems?"

The elf reached for a new test, tossing the corrected one on top of the pile to his right, and looked up, still writing and correcting from memory. A truly efficient teacher, he was. "Well, if you don't mind. It's not like I can just grab a volunteer student, what with the exam being confidential and all."

"Here, take him," the necromancer commented, tossing the diminutive golem into the air, where it levitated and glided down to land on top of the test Ryo was correcting. The elf took one look at the golem, and snorted. "What in the world convinced you to make this bugger?" Ryo bent down for a closer look, and a wide grin broke out. "He actually looks like Felix the cat."

"Really? I never noticed." Zipping his jacket back up, he strode down the hall. "Good luck correcting."

"Yes. Same to you; think you can get them done by the due date tomorrow afternoon?"

The necromancer quickened his pace and beat a hasty retreat, seeing Ryo's smug look in his head, which was just as bad as turning around and seeing it in real life.

He hurriedly stalked out the front office door, not even bothering to reply to the cheery "Hey," that Shikyo mumbled to him as the cat walked by, a bag filled with corrected tests and papers slung over his shoulders. Instead, he let the door slam behind him, and the cat demon stared blankly at where the necromancer used to be. When the English teacher reached the lobby and saw the elf finishing the last of his pile of tests, the cat jerked a head back down the hall. "Were you rubbing your mad test-correcting skillez in the poor man's face?"

"Maybe..."

* * *

Well, now that he was outside, he didn't want to go home, although he really should, seeing as the intimidating stack on his table wasn't getting any smaller. And, now that he had his mail, which wormed him out of another excuse. Sighing, the middle-aged Michealangelo shuffled along the ice-coated pathway, en route to the library. Perhaps he could see about getting himself a computer to while away the hours. 

Besides Kuwabara, the necromancer didn't have any steady students. And since the carrot top hadn't returned (or even been heard of) for the last three months, he had been, sadly, without much to do. Walking by the infirmary, he looked up at the curtained windows, foggy from the overly warm room versus the cold of the outside, and made a beeline for the entrance. A number of students had been forced to submit to the infirmary's bed rest, not being allowed to move, and such, return to their own dorms. Perhaps he could amuse some of the kids...

Opening the door, he instantly realized his mistake -- and why the room was so hot. Although the injured and/or sick students (all tournament participants) were all in reach of a number of large floor fans, the heat emanated from one partitioned-off bed. He was about to turn around and leave, when the curtains surrounding the bed opened, and Ayame stepped through, orange hair unaffected by the humidity of the room. From the open space in the curtains, Michealangelo could see the black, scaly, form of a large lizard, lying on a bare mattress. An IV needle was fed into the back of the reptile's neck, and the flames that normally flickered fiercely along its back were near extinguished.

Ayame gave Michealangelo, teacher or not, a stern look and quickly slid the curtains closed. "What do you want?"

"Nothing much. Just poking around; I better go now, though." The necromancer reached for the door, already starting to feel his black hair curl from the moisture of the air. For a second, the fire demon's eyes widened, and he caught the motion of a moving hand out of the corner of his eye. Turning around to face the student, who was currently staring pointedly at the bed of his pet, Michealangelo waited expectantly for Ayame to speak.

"That girl, Lark, who went missing... she's back."

He fought back a choke of surprise, keeping a poker face as Ayame shoved his hands in his pockets. Despite the teen's baggy clothing, the teacher could still see his hands curl into fists. The orange-haired teen glared at the curtains with his red eyes, as if the fabric would burn with just a look. "There's something she wants to steal from Prudence. A watch."

At that, the Laird almost _did_ choke, and was ready to run out the door as well. That girl had gotten her hands on the pocket watch he had entrusted to Rogerik? He didn't know whose neck he wanted to wring first: the manipulative female student, or the coward.

"I see." He turned, and gave the lizard on the bed one last sympathetic look. "I'm sure he'll be fine, by the way. It would take more than a weak spirit to finish your familiar off."

Ayame snorted, unmoving from his wall-like stance between the Laird and his injured companion. "Whatever. Get going."

As the older man shut the door gently behind him, the teen glared at the other students in the room, and every one of them shivered under his red-hot gaze. Pretending to forget the scene they had witnessed, the injured tournament participants turned back to their card games and radio.

* * *

He sighed and rustled the newspaper, trying his best to blow blond bangs out of his face. The section he was reading creased sharply and refused to release, tearing as he tried to gently jiggle the paper straight. He sighed again, and folded the page in half, then continued reading. Resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, Rogerik continued to read the most recent "art theft" article. 

Now, over the last few months he had been quite the troublemaker, so seeing an article over an art theft was nothing new. What bothered him, however, was the fact that someone had gotten it into their head to continue his work -- and quite sloppily, he could add. It couldn't have been another thief under hire of Koenma... he would have been alerted if that had happened. So, that could only mean one thing: Givanni.

Thoughts chased through his head, each one coming up as fruitless in it's search for answers as a dog was at catching it's own tail. Then, there was a loud banging at the door, and the little dog inside Rogerik's head stumbled in it's tail-catching attempt as the blond nearly fell out of his chair. He swore, quietly, and scrambled to his feet, working his way towards the door the entire time. The door was banged upon again, and now the doorbell started to ring impatiently.

"All right, all right! I'm coming! Sheesh..." He had barely opened the door a crack when he saw the stern frown of the Laird. Eyes widening in something between fear and shock, he quickly slammed the door shut again, panting.

"Rogeriiik..." The knob started to turn, despite the firm grasp the thief had on it. Whimpering slightly, he reached for the chain, only to find it had been taken off -- most likely by Erika, to make sure the students didn't lock her out. It was senseless to try to brace the door shut, since it opened towards the outside. With no other options available, he got a running start and jumped over the couch, rolling to the other side and landing on his knees. As the front door slowly opened, he made a break for the basement door.

He hadn't even had time to open the door before a rough hand grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him back. He winced at the pain that shot through his shoulder and arm, but still tried to fight his way to freedom -- which meant he was now degraded to digging his nails into the carpet with every ounce of strength he had.

Every ounce of strength, apparently, as the necromancer hoisted Rogerik on his shoulder and pinned the theif's hands, shoulders, and legs, was simply not enough.

"Rogerik," Michealangelo huffed, giving the blond a weary look. "Remember that watch I gave you?" The teen stared, speechless, until the Laird gave his shoulders a good shake. "Out with it, boy! Where is that watch!"

He coughed, and slowly let his body go limp. The necromancer had been pinching the nerves in his arms quite uncomfortably. "P-Prudence decided to hold onto it for me." With that, he was unceremoniously dumped on the floor by the Laird's feet. Heavy boots thudding in even the plush carpet, the older man walked by him and up the stairs. "Wonderful job there, kid."

The sharp pain that had started in his shoulders was now traveling up, down his back and up his neck. Even moving his head to look to the side hurt; just by getting up and leaning against the wall for support... that killed. But not as much as the teacher's look had.

* * *

Lark sat, once again, on the staircase up to her sister's room, staring pensively at Prudence's door. Embyr had gotten it open once, but now that the older girl had awoken and was inside the room, doing who-knew-what, the fox had disappeared. Not that Lark could blame Embyr, really, as she didn't want to even so much as look at the cherry-haired girl. 

But looking was necessary to get back the watch, and she would have to be even more daring now that Prudence was awake. If nothing else, that "guardian spirit" Rogerik had tried to warn her about was still floating around. Often, Lark could feel the chill of its gaze deep inside of her. A gut instinct (which she ignored) that told her to run.

But she had to calm down... she had plenty of time. It was the only thing she had, now.

The stairs creaked, and heavy footsteps ascended. Narrowing her eyes, the water-manipulator cautiously slid up the stairs, one at a time. The person who had stopped outside of Prudence's bedroom door, upset look on his stubble-covered face, was Laird Michealangelo.

Things were just starting to look up, now. Glad that she could finally get something done, the teenaged girl hopped down the staircase and landed with a thump. "Hey!" She noticed how the Laird's eyebrow twitched at the volume of her greeting, and she quickly lowered her voice. "Hey... what are you doing here?"

"Work," was the grumbled reply, and the older man searched the inside lining of his leather jacket. Face still emotionless, he pulled out a small slip of paper, fire red with one simple kanji written upon its face in black ink. The tell-tale glow of reiki imbued the paper charm with power, and the door's malicious aura tore itself to shreds in an attempt to escape the charm. The technique was not quite as natural or gracefully simply, as Embyr had made it out to be, but it got the job done all the same. The door innocently swung open.

Prudence had stopped laughing long ago, before the Laird had even come, but now it seemed like she had gone into an unnatural quiet. As the door slowly, painstakingly, opened little by little, Lark felt a chill pass through her. Suddenly, she wanted as far away from that room as possible, and she didn't mind backing away from the door.

Bravely, or perhaps stupidly (after all, who could possibly of wanted to go chase after Prudence with a set mood like _that_?), the Laird stepped inside, paper charm cast to the floor. On her hands and knees, with her back still to the wall, Lark positioned herself so she could still watch what went on. At first, it seemed to come exactly from a thriller movie: the strange young girl, sitting in the middle of the floor, back turned to the hero. It was quiet, silent, tension built up to the point that you felt you would die if you so much as moved.

One second, Prudence was there. The next, she was gone.

Not gone physically, of course. Just hidden from view. Shielded from behind a large animal skull that seemed to have its eyes and hair intact. Although the greedy pupils, white set in an iris of black, were unnerving, it was nothing compared to the hair. Part of the spinal vertebrae trailed out of the skull like some ridiculous tail, bare patches showing bleached bones with little problem.

It was when hair, long, healthy, and silky brown, poked out from between the vertebra that disgusted Lark. If one couldn't see the face or ghastly tail, then one could easily live with just the hair floating in midair. But attached to a grinning skull-face? Lark felt the urge to gag.

Michealangelo reached into his jacket again, and Lark suspected he would pull out another charm. Too slow, she realized, as the spirit barreled right through the older man as if he simply wasn't there. Then, all that bone and hair, every last spine-tingling strand, charged for her. It didn't even have to touch her. The mere sight of the spirit made her lose her balance and, realizing the wall wasn't behind her (she had moved forwards to get a better view), tumble down the stairs.

Wall and staircase melded, up became indistinguishable from down... the fall never seemed to end. She felt pain, but it was muffled. Those white pupils still stared at her. She could feel the hair close in on her, a hundred tiny fingers that were stronger than steel. Then, suddenly, the world righted itself and the hair retreated.

She cautiously opened her eyes, her arms still curled protectively around her head, but now she could see the brown hair curling around another person. Namely, Rogerik.

The psychic had managed to stop her before she had slammed into the wall, but now the spirit's hair was winding around his throat and arms. It billowed behind him as he was jerked forwards onto his knees, like some twisted version of a flowing cape. He managed a wry grin and choked out, in a raspy voice, "Finally learned how to block."

A shriek filled the air, and the spirit's eyes widened in shock before it completely disappeared. With nothing to keep him suspended, he fell forwards, his skin tinged blue. Lark struggled for a foothold, eyes constantly shifting from the top of the staircase to the bottom, where Rogerik was sprawled. She was nearly in a panic, now. Her gut screamed at her, told her to run and make use of the thief's distraction.

The tall silhouette of Michealangelo, holding Prudence up by the elbow while she scratched and fought, her guardian spirit watching helplessly as the necromancer manhandled the teen down the staircase, made her mind make the decision to stay. The older man had snapped the chain with the watch, and the rusty pocket watch spun lazily on the end of the gold necklace from between his fingers.

"Lark..." His voice strained. No doubt it took a considerable amount of concentration to keep a hold of Prudence and intimidate the bone-snake-like spirit. The lid to the watch flipped open, and the crooked hands once again stared at her balefully. "Ready to go back and help the others?"

She almost nodded her head, then looked down at her feet, where the psychic lay. If anything like Prudence happened again... well, she didn't know how the wench had gotten her hands on the watch to begin with, but she wasn't willing to just let the thief do it again. As if reading her thoughts, the necromancer gave her a nod. "It's fine. I'll have it on my person at all times."

"Good... we can avoid another screw-up." They had came out a bit more callous than she had wanted them to be, but Rogerik wasn't awake to hear them. Lark caught the dark-eyed glare of the teacher and fell silent.

"I'm sure I can get the truth to the story from this girl." He yanked the elbow of said "girl". For once, Lark could see how bad the bags under his eyes were. Cringing in embarrassment, she stared at the carpet. "If we come back, can we have the dorm back?"

"I don't see why not."

"You'll send out letters to our families, so they know we aren't dead?"

"If you're alive when you get back."

Lark glared at the carpet. That didn't sound too promising.

"We can make up our midterms, right? Or maybe just let us pass?"

"Of course --errr... wait, no." He managed to crack a smile. "Take your own test, slacker."

Lark sighed, and stepped forwards, nudging Rogerik's arm out of the way with her foot. Although nudge may have been too gentle a term, at least she didn't crush his arm with a full-fledged kick. She wasn't that mad at him, yet...

She smoothed out her jeans, and tied her sneakers tighter. All ready, she saluted the necromancer. "Beam me up, Scotty!"

The grin only lasted as long as it took for the girl to disappear in a flash of white. Tucking the precious piece of junk in his pocket, the teacher took out a long strip of red paper and slapped it on Prudence's wrists. Automatically, they clung and tightened into manacles.

"Looks like I have some serious clean-up to do, eh?"

"Shut up, old man! And get me out of these this instant-"There was a faint slapping sound, and yet another band of paper covered the girl's mouth. And, for the first time in over a month, the necromancer felt at peace with his decision to send the Tantei after the beast.

* * *

Gaaggghhhhhh... headdesk I will finish this! I swear! >. Next chapter..! The arc is done! 


	22. Time Slip

Quote of the Week: "How to fly: Step one, jump. Step two, miss the ground." - Hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy

Alright, quickly put: Computer died, Floppy Disk Drive Died, had to re-write all of chapter by hand, then re-type on public computers and email to self. Finally got memory card/stick, but I'm now at a pre-college summer program, and have been busy with my mad comic-drawing skillez.

Geez... the comic I wrote is 15 pages (not counting cover). I wish I had a scanner and a Photoshop/Illustrator to neaten it up and make it accessible through computer. ;.;

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine... really."

It had been the fifth time he'd asked her in the last twenty minutes, and each time her answer had been the same. Lyra trudged at the back of the group, Kurama walking just slowly enough to keep pace with her. The room with the pentacle death trap was far behind them, through twisty corridors and passages, down the spiral staircase that wrapped more tightly around itself than a snail's shell. The room with the same pit that her sister had fallen through.

At first her sobs had been nearly unstoppable, and the group had let her cry. Some, such as Hanabi and Victoria, were more lenient than the others. It had only taken ten minutes for Yusuke to snap at her and tell her to get a hold of herself; that had been the final slap, that one reminder that told her their time was limited. They might have lost one friend, but if everyone didn't shape up, they could just as easily lose another.

The traveling through the corridors had given her time to calm down, to slow down everything and try to think it through rationally. And it had been this rational thinking process that the fox kept interrupting. She couldn't blame him; her brainstorm had closed her off from the others, and she had become silent and withdrawn. Often, she had been told that those same two characteristics came out when she was upset or worried.

"Lyra..."

Again, not that Kurama could be blamed... but she was seriously thinking of getting a pin to wear that said "Thinking -- currently not emotionally scarred".

"Yes, Kurama?" The redhead raised an eyebrow, startled by the sudden, if subtle, edge to her voice. He didn't have to say anything, however, once the water manipulator bumped into Kuwabara's back. The carrot top didn't even blink, and Lyra saw just how badly the castle was affecting the others. She might have lost her sister (although the story of Lark's "death" seemed riddled with holes), but for Kuwabara, this place was a whole level above what his spiritual sensitivity reached.

His eyes were bloodshot, and even now she could see the capillaries underneath his eyelids swelling; the boy's body was shaking, not so much as shivering but the horrible, uncontrollable shaking like that of one of the elderly. One look at Kuwabara, and Lyra was ready to shut down all of her spiritual senses, but she managed to carefully check his energy and aura.

It was offbeat, sputtering and stumbling like the beat of a diseased heart. Kurama nodded slowly towards her, and she nodded in return. Kuwabara was the most sensitive out of all of them; whatever was doing this to him could obviously affect the rest of them, and probably would the closer they came to the source. Silently, she raised the bubble-like shield around Kuwabara, and sighed in relief as his aura regained its steady pulse. The kekkai wasn't exceptionally difficult, working in tune with the magnetic pull and electrical pulses that surrounded all living organisms, but was useful in breaking up rogue energy waves; she had seen the same method be put to use in many a doctor's office and spas all over Meucca.

Up ahead, Yusuke paused, then found a handhold on the wall, motioning for the others to halt. Carefully, he peeked out around the corner, and saw the monstrous iron gates that effectively sealed off the hallway. Another quick check to make sure nothing particularly nasty was lurking around, and the spirit detective relaxed. They milled at the gates, each one of them spiritually probing the menacing structure for any weaknesses.

"Ah! Shit, that's hard!"

Well, most of them were spiritually probing. Yusuke had decided to give the door a good whack; which, although a disgustingly primitive way to approach things, often worked best. If you hit the door and it didn't hit you back or trigger a trap, that was a good thing.

But their metal door just stood there, blocking the path like only a door could. Sweatdropping, Kurama stared at the massive keyhole just below the immovable handle. "Well, I hate to say this, but..."

"Hate to say what?" Kyuro yowled, menacingly pawing at Victoria's shoulder. The cat leapt down, and paced in front of the door as if it were merely an oversized mouse hole. "We can get through this, fox-boy." With that, the black cat took up his vacant stare at the keyhole, and became ignorant to the world around him.

"I hate it when he does that... it's creepy," Hanabi muttered, earning a scattered agreement from his companions. No sooner were the words out of his mouth, than a great creaking sound was heard. Kyuro mewed and scampered back onto Victoria's shoulder, where he made himself comfortable.

"What did you..? Kyuro?" Lyra's blue eyes widened at the large gate. The same obstacle that, although still quite solid and sturdy, was making noises that were not unlike the cries of a dying animal. Such a description was far more flowery than was true, however; for Kyuro nudged the elder Landon sibling's cheek, and gestured towards the door. "Try opening it. Should work, now."

"What gives you that idea?" questioned Hiei, his neck encircled by Mara's tail. This time the cat didn't even bother with a wayward glance. "Yes, give a young girl a talking cat as a companion. An animal that can do nothing but be cute and fuzzy, whine, and eat. Then tell that cat to watch over multiple generations of the girl's family. Works wonders." At this, the cat narrowed his green eyes, whiskers flat against his muzzle. "I was able to keep a small fraction of my power, from when I was sealed way back when. Of course, it only comes out in emergencies..." At this, Victoria rolled his eyes. "Wonderful history lesson. Moving onwards."

And, thus, the path was opened. Despite the fact that the gates seriously needed some repair and oil. Another spiral staircase, and the group traipsed onwards, never thinking much farther than the present. Truthfully, they didn't really want to know what waited for them up ahead.

* * *

Slowly, ever so slowly, the door opened, and the ghostly head of a healthy middle-aged man poked in. "Misses? You're wanted."

"About time!" The young girl leapt up from the straw mattress, and ran towards the door, bare feet silent on the flagstone. Blonde hair disheveled, she looked back at her "older sister" and cocked her head. "LeeAnne, we have to go, now. I don't want to run into the pooka."

Holly yawned and stretched, still loath to get up from the warm straw. As the youngster's voice took on a panicked pitch, however, she stopped in mid-stretch and tried to reason out the situation in her head.

Okay, problem one: Stuck in a large castle with a little girl who thought Holly was her big sister. Problem two: That same castle and little girl were property of the monster that had dragged her here.

The solution to the first problem was still outside. Jin had already reached the castle, but had most likely hidden himself once the younger girl noticed his intrusion. If Jin could only get in, she was as good as home free; the others were bound to be close behind. And, if not, that only left problem two. Again, as soon as she got back home, that problem was solved, as well.

She hoped.

Ah, well, it could be figured out later. Curiosity was garnering and, although she wasn't fond of being any closer to "It" than was necessary, it would be a nice change to get out of the tower prison. Perhaps find out if her friends had actually arrived to come save her, try to spot some handy escape routes. It were times like this that she wished she had her broom; if she were able to just fly away, then the entire dilemma would have been over with by now.

Slowly, she got to her feet, trying to spot any bit of Jin through the window as she walked across the room and joined the guard and girl. Jin had a habit of bad timing, and if he just crashed in right now she was certain he would end up getting hurt in some manner or another.

The guard tried to smile, but the bags under his eyes and the way he was always close to grabbing the hilt of his dagger made it painfully obvious that he had no time to waste escorting a bunch of children through the halls. For the first time, Holly noticed the misty look of his body, the way she could faintly see the dull gray of stone through his form.

A ghost... he was already dead, and still protecting his castle. Not that he had a choice, most likely; such a binding "commitment" only made her fear for herself and her friends all the more. If she ended up dying here, would she be stuck in this dreary prison forever, or move on to be judged in Reikai like everyone else?

"Well, let's get going." She tried her best to sound cheerful, hoping that it was enough to make Jin pause outside and think. The young girl clasped Holly's hand and, with an affirmative nod from the guard, marched stiffly down the spiral staircase. Behind them, the torches sputtered and faded, each one going out as soon as they passed it.

She couldn't wait until she could escape from this horror house.

* * *

They were more than halfway up this set of stairs, and Hanabi desperately wished that the popular choice of architecture in medieval Europe had been one-floor flats. It was much easier to run in a straight line than navigate this damned labyrinth.

Feeling exceptionally brave, he glanced down, and immediately squeezed his golden-yellow eyes shut in nausea. More than halfway up... the top of the stairwell wasn't visible, and the bottom, from whence they had came, was cloaked in darkness. He had no idea where they were, no idea how far above ground level they were, and he had a hard time even grasping the time. The tower they were climbing up, the corkscrew stairs rising up in the exact middle of the room, had odd holes in the walls. Mild sunlight filtered through the tiny cracks and gaps, but not nearly enough to make a difference in visibility.

"Jeebus... are we there yet?" Yusuke had fallen from the fore of the group, and the toll all the traveling they had done was starting to show. He dragged one arm along the think stone banister, half-asleep. In fact, it seemed only Kyuro and Hiei were unaffected by the long climb.

"I suppose we might almost be there," Kurama stated. The redhead leaned over the balcony and craned his neck, trying to judge the remaining distance. He turned back to them with a shaky smile. "It should only take five more minutes to get to the top."

"About frikkin' time!"

"...If you run."

"Goddamn you, Kurama!"

When they had finally reached the top and, alas, found another huge iron door barring the way, it didn't take long for the entire group to notice the sheer amount of energy radiating from the room beyond the door. Even Kuwabara, enclosed in his own little youki-retardant kekkai bubble, was hit hard by the force of the power. They fidgeted as Kyuro once again went to work on the intimidating lock. Hiei shifted his weight from among the shadows, uncharacteristically stroking his dragon charge's long neck. When taunted about the habit by Kuwabara, the fire demon merely narrowed his red eyes and raised an eyebrow.

"The door's open, idiot. Let's go."

So much like sheep filing up for the slaughterhouse, they entered the last room.

* * *

Technically, he was rather proud of himself. The wind master had managed to get a hold of his incessant energy and had patiently held himself back as Holly had been escorted out of the tower room.

Although, now that he looked back on the moment, then time and setting to break in and whisk her away had been perfect. One guard a little girl had been all that had kept the witch from him; he doubted he could have ever have gotten a more perfect set of circumstances.

Hopefully, waiting hadn't been a fatal mistake.

Pointed ears moving like radar, he strained to pinpoint Holly's location by the sound from the castle hallways. To his annoyance, the only sound was the occasional scuff of shoes as the witch sporadically managed to catch the toe of her sneakers on the uneven stone floors. It wasn't very helpful, but just enough to go by, as he strived to stay out of sight.

Not that he really had to bother. Whatever guards there were, if they were lucky to still be alive, were busy trying to contain the pooka. They weren't having much success, as every once in a while he would see a fleeting glimpse of black fur as the horse whipped around the castle, killing, burning, and just causing general chaos wherever it went.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, and Jin hastily ducked behind a carved stone gargoyle. No noise was heard, as he floated centimeters above the roof. Already, he could feel the insane concentration of youki that barraged him mercilessly; when he tried to attempt a landing, he was nearly thrown off the slate-tile roofing. With gritted teeth, Jin dug his nails in and managed to position himself so he had a view of the hallway through a hole-turned-makeshift-skylight.

Holly might have wanted him to stay put, but he was itching to just get everything done and over with. He raptly paid attention as the heavy doors that the three figures stood in front of slowly swung open, and scrambled for a new rooftop location as the witch was escorted into the much larger room. Unfortunately, time hadn't taken its toll on the domed roof, with the worst of the damage being a sprinkling of moss along the tiles.

There was a sudden lurch in balance, and the shinobi managed to throw himself forwards, just as the section of roof where he had been crouching suddenly collapsed in upon itself. The redhead held his breath; his sharp ears picked up the smooth hissing noise as the guard drew his dagger -- a sound that was nearly lost amid the startled yelps of the two girls.

When the blade hissed again, this time returning to its scabbard, Jin sighed in relief. He was safe...

... Theoretically, at least. When he returned to his new peephole - this time with greater caution, in case the ceiling around it was weakened - he could see the hulking shadow of the beast, chains dully gleaming in the weak sunlight. Truthfully, the stench had hit him first, but there was no mistaking those thin and scarred arms, the matted, bloody, fur cloak...

Down below, he could see Holly recoil away from the dark corner, seem to shrink as she tried to step behind the guard. With what looked like a struggle, the strange little girl tore her hand free from the witch's iron grip and ran forwards, settling down cross-legged in front of It. One arm reached down, the hand outspread, and Holly squeezed her eyes shut. From his spying post, even Jin prepared himself for a rather unhappy end for the child.

But one spider-legs finger, with its gnarled, dirty nails, gently, oh-ever-so-gently, stroked the girl's head. She smiled, and ran over to it's massive form, as if the smell of rotting flesh didn't even exist; plopping down on one hoof, she leaned up against the gray leg and played absentmindedly with a giant chain link, the same hand of It dropped nearby, the fingers protectively curling into a shell around her.

All the time, It had been staring at Holly, boring through her as she uselessly tried to use the ghostly guard as a shield from It's proverbial eyes. The other hand rose and a long finger beckoned towards her, with all the promised love of a mother calling to their child. Jin could only growl in disgust as the guard dragged Holly out from behind him and present her forwards. The fact that the middle-aged man didn't look too happy about presenting a young girl to such a monster didn't help... underneath his hands, the loose, falling, slate tile was crushed into sand.

The witch as nearly half-way across the floor, nearly in reach of those mutilated hands, when the most horrible screeching sound was heard. Jin's eyes widened, and he scuttled over to the other side of the hole, unable to see the source from where he watched. In his former blind spot was a large iron door, so big it seemed to be the wall itself. The door was opening, and all seemed quiet, the guard once again drawing his weapon.

No one moved except for Holly, who stepped backwards towards the guard. A gust of wind breezed through, making her hair fly into her face, but she still retreated... only to find the ghost fall to his knees, his misty head rolling across the floor and coming to a stop against the foot of the black-clad killer. With a flick of the wrist that flung the "blood" onto the stone floor, the white creature that had wound itself around the man's neck stretched and yawned; once the dragonling had spotted Holly, she gave out a happy chirr.

"Good job, Hiei." And in strutted Yusuke, hands in pockets, as if there was no giant monster in the corner. The young man appeared to be relaxed, but Jin saw the simmering aura of blue; despite his posture, Yusuke seemed ready to go at any minute. But, for all the praise he had had for the two, it turned to an inward groan as soon as he saw the others.

Only Yusuke and Hiei would be so arrogant as to _purposely_ step out of a protective barrier shield.

They were joined by another arrogant fool, as Kyuro darted out from the shield, intent on returning to Holly, with the smart remark of, "Charge ahead and get killed, by all means."

"Hey, " Yusuke shouted, "It's not like there's anyone else here-"

With a shuddering roar, the other wall, the one not preoccupied with a door or a monster that was (wrongly) tenderly caring for an obviously confused human girl, exploded outwards in a cloud of dust, lit up by fire. Like a living shadow, the pooka cantered in, snorting little spurts of flame as it stomped its right foreleg on the ground.

Not like he had anything better to do, and the fact that he had an irking suspicion Yusuke would perhaps need a little more backup, Jin took to the air and dove into the room. He couldn't help but smile as the spirit detective's head whipped back and forth; nearly everyone had a similar expression on their face. Except for Hiei, since the fire demon didn't was to appear as if, you know, the whole turn of events had actually fazed him.

Yusuke blinked. "...The crap?"

The crap, indeed.

* * *

She passed another torch, this one still smoldering. Whoever had put the fire out, had done so not long ago. She smiled to herself, happy that she was finally catching up.

At first she had decided to just pop up, right behind them. By the time she had returned to the horrible castle, the elongated shadows of her friends had covered the stairwell, and the temptation to join them as soon as possible had been overwhelming. But, then she had thought about their reactions. Sure, at least Lyra would be happy, but who wasn't to say that the others would be suspicious? They had seen her fall in a big, pointy-stick-prone, pit. Obviously at least _someone_ would have to think something was up.

So, plan A had switched over to plan B: ease them into the fact that she was still very much alive and kicking.

She lifted her leg to start up the one last staircase, and nearly cried out in pain. Although she was alive now, she doubted she would do much kicking after the spill the inter-dimensional-vortex-thingy-of-doom (or whatever it actually was) that Michealangelo had used to send her back. Contrary to popular belief, if you did fall from a distance of about teen feet, even if you went into a roll, stone floors still hurt. '_Damn those Legend of Zelda games...'_

'_Still, it's one step at a time... the damn staircase can't be too long, could it?'_ That's right... she would go at it one step at a time. Although, it were times like this that made her wish she had taken more classes in healing techniques. Or at least found some way to block out pain. So far, the only method she had seen used (by Hiei, of all people) had been to inflict more pain upon oneself, albeit in a different location. And, although Lark could be clueless once in a while, she wasn't ready to severely bruise and/or pull a muscle in her other leg.

Twenty minutes later found her more than halfway up the staircase, thinking much the same question that Yusuke had asked. Of course, this time there was no one around to answer her, and she slumped against the banister in exhaustion. "I just wanna go hooome..." By this time, she was well beyond the point of whining.

That was when a thunderous crash reverberated through the tower, causing chunks of stone walls to clatter downwards; she didn't even bother listening to them contact the ground, for the girl was up the stairs like a shot. Soon after, another crash made the spiral stairs' column shake. All pain and fatigue forgotten, Lark sprinted. She wanted out of there: now.

Compared to the scene in the room before her, the shock of the mysteriously unlocked door was marginal. It was a shock that was even worth crawling back into that blasted time-space-warp.

Still wary of her friends, Lark tried to sneak along the wall, hoping that the mixed presence of the pooka and the nameless beast enough to keep Yusuke, Jin, and Hiei distracted. Kurama was undoubtedly smart enough to think before attacking her, and Kuwabara didn't look all that intimidating in his bubble; Victoria's eyes were glued to his sister, much the same with Kyuro. Hanabi was just staring at the monster in the corner with disgust - Lark could see a shiver run up and down him as he stared at what he had wrought - and it only worsened when the monster once again beckoned to the witch in the middle of the room.

So, imagine the her surprise when her older sister, the only one whose gaze had meandered over towards the stairs when Lark had chosen that moment to drag herself up, changed emotions in two seconds flat. Surprise to happiness, then, worse of all, suspicion, followed by a glare that seemed far out of place upon her usually gentle features. Lark couldn't help backing up, until the edge of her heel caught on an invisible surface (a hastily thrown up kekkai shield? One intended to be low enough to the ground to trip her?), and the heavy sound of her foot as she stumbled backwards garnered the attention of the others. Even the pooka turned its bright yellow eyes on her.

Without much choice, and under the piercing gaze of the tantei, the younger Admarant sister shot a sphere of water at the pooka, screamed bloody murder, and dove for cover to escape the searing flames. Some may have called her move simply aggressive. The more tactful would call it panicking.

Her panicking set off a chain reaction of violence and chaos. No sooner had the pooka redirected its attention, Jin and Yusuke both rushed it, intending to take the horse-creature out by whatever means necessary. No one really knew what was going on, as the wind rose with a vengeance and energy blasts, as well as the pooka's fire, ripped through the air with such force that all sunlight was drained out. The air hissed near the fire breathing horse; the chain that adorned its neck was cherry-red, and had turned nearly all of Lark's amassed water ball into steam that condensed and rolled down its glossy black coat.

A black furball collided with Holly's chest, and the witch instinctively clutched to it, not realizing her it as her familiar until the cold nose had been jarred into her cheek and the whiskers tickled her ear. She wanted to hug him and hide away... but she also didn't want to risk her safety by making any movements. So, while she huddled on the floor, curled around her cat, trying not to watch the silvery body of the headless guard slowly fade away beside her, the tackle from the side came as a total surprise.

They rolled, the witch and her attacker, until coming to a stop behind the stone rubble that had collected along the wall. When Holly's balance finally came to rights and the floor stopped spinning, she looked up at her rescuer. Lark shakily smiled in return, earning a miffed glare from Kyuro.

"So you're _not_ dead."

"Nope! But our dorm is a pigsty!"

"Whuh? Lark, dead? Dorm? Eh?"

"Don't feel too bad," Lark flippantly stated, rolling her eyes. "I'm confused, too." Holly, at a lost for words, numbly nodded. All was quiet for a few seconds, until Lark's eyes widened, and the trio was once again dodging for cover. This time, Jin had plowed through the pooka's defenses, and the two non-humans smashed into the rubble that had been the girl's former shelter. Although Jin had managed to escape from the attack attempt fairly uninjured, the pooka flashed sharp hooves at the sky before rolling to its feet with an indignant whinny. It wasn't happy at all.

And one never wished to meet an unhappy pooka.

"We need a plan of action." Kyuro's tail lashed wildly as the cat paced the stone floor. Holly, however, was all too happy to provide a plan. "Can we scream bloody murder again and run away?" She managed to keep a straight face when Lark viciously elbowed her in the ribs, but Kyuro suddenly got a faraway look in his eyes. "Yes, actually, that would work quite well." He trotted another little circle, not wanting to leave the girl he had been so recently reunited with, trying to strategize.

"Alright... okay, I think I have it. We aren't going to beat the pooka, or that... thing. So we're going to escape here. If we could get in touch with Rogerik on the other end of the watch, then he could pull us back through."

Both girls blinked, and but it quickly turned to an odd look. "And how are we supposed to get in contact with Rogerik?"

That drew a blank, and they sat there mulling it over, until a rogue spirit gun demolished another wall. After that, the three decided that they should plot while putting plan A - run away like the dickens - to use. Sadly, they never made it to the staircase, for they suddenly seemed to run into an invisible wall of sorts...

"Owww..." Holly rubbed her temples, trying to shake off the pins-and-needles-feeling the kekkai barrier inflicted. But she stared, wide-eyed, at the multi-tasking Lyra, who was still keeping up the youki-protection-bubble for Kuwabara.

"Alright, I don't know why my sister isn't dead, and I'm in a better mood because of that, but, please, someone try to make sense of this mess." The mess included a very outnumbered pooka, cornered, that was currently trying to set Hiei, Yusuke, and Victoria on fire. Whenever the flames reached too close to the defenseless Lyra, Hanabi, Mara, and Kuwabara, Kurama was quick to deter them with a fast growth of shrubbery. So far, the repetition had been working without flaw; but if It tried to interfere, there was no doubt everyone would get their heads handed back to them on a silver platter.

"We're running away," Lark stated, plain as day. Kyuro, at the dull simplicity of her words, nearly let his head smack against the floor. "Actually," Holly muttered, her voice unsure, "Kyuro has an idea. If we could contact Rogerik-"

"-Which isn't going to happen, unless you have a nifty inter-dimensional phone," Lark interjected.

"-then he could bring us back home with some weird watch."

Lyra and Kurama shared glances, on the verge of sweatdropping, then proceeded to try and push Kuwabara towards the stairs. "I wonder, Kurama, why we never thought of that."

The fox was quiet for a while before finally answering, "It might have had something to do with Lark being "dead"."

"Ah, that's it." It was then that realization dawned upon both of their faces. "You don't think..?"

"That there's something in the pit Lark fell in that could help? There's a theoretical possibility."

"Well, something must have moved her, otherwise, my sister would be, um... dead."

Now feeling very much ignored in his kekkai-bubble, Kuwabara crossed his arms and tried to make conversation. "Hey, Lark, after you fell in the pit, what happened?" The question caught her off guard, but the answer was still fresh in the water manipulator's mind. "I went home. It was snowing."

"Snowing? In November?" If Kuwabara had looked stumped before, it was nothing compared to the expression he wore now.

"No, it was January. And Koenma's replacing you guys, I think..."

Through the entire sequence of events, starting from that first punch thrown at the pooka, Yusuke had been oblivious to all else except the fight; he'd had to be, considering that the horse-like monster was so unpredictable. Now, however, he let that rare concentration slip. "Koenma's doing what!"

"Idiot!" That was all that Hiei had the time to roar out before a hoof connected with Yusuke's ribs. Subconsciously, the teen clung onto the hoof, even as the sharp edge threatened to scramble his gut. The pooka was suddenly unable to move, balanced only on three legs, and at an unusual angle that prevented the animal from kicking out another hoof without falling over.

And with that, it was over. Hiei took the opportunity to unsheathe his katana, the movement drawing a whisper of sound, before the blade whistled through the air to slice the juglar vein. The three-eyed demon snorted, not at all happy with the crude cut; the chains were unusually thick and tough, a force that could definitely contend with his sword's steel. What had been an intended guillotine sweep instead turned into a slow death. He was only all too happy that the blood bubbling out of the vein and into the animal's throat kept it from crying out clearly.

Amidst the horrible dying noises the once-malicious creature was making, a soft giggle could be heard from the far corner, between It's huge cloven hooves. As the swordsman cleaned off the murky blood on the pooka's ebon pelt, the giggling soon gave way to an enamored applause.

"You got rid of it! Thank you!" All of them turned their attention to the happy little girl, feeling sick as the uneven fingernail, attached to the skin-and-bones finger, gently stroked her dirty blonde hair. "I was afraid that it would try and hurt us, but you killed it."

The beast made some sort of noise, a dry, raspy, intake of breath that made the young child look up into it's soulless eyes and caused a slight glimmer of knowledge to grow in her eyes. Meekly, now that she had communicated with her caretaker, she turned back to face them before redirecting her eyes to the floor.

"But It's right... if you beat the pooka, then you're even stronger. And you're taking away LeeAnne..."

"She thinks you're someone else?" Lark quietly asked Holly, faintly remembering the long dialogue about LeeAnne that Korfius had been all too happy to tell. The witch nodded, sternly facing the doorway. "...Let's just go."

"-And if you're going to try and take her, then I - we - will stop you," The girl-child finished, blue eyes holding both disappointment, sadness, and anger. To see such a look on a child no older than seven was disheartening, to say the least. To hear a young child tell you - seriously - that they were going to use any method available to stop you... it was as striking as if the gun was already in their hands and up to your forehead.

"Go," Hiei ordered, red eyes trained on the spirit detective and older witch whom had just fought by his side. Victoria opened her mouth to say something, but shut it and snorted, instead, as Yusuke clasped a hand on her shoulder and him and Jin led her away with the comment of: "Have fun." That was all that had to be said; the fire demon had already decided to not let anything interfere in this fight.

Not even that idiot fox, Kurama.

Hiei glanced back at them, and motioned for Mara to go on ahead without him, before sneering at the little girl. Carefully, he waited until the others had left the stairwell. The redheaded fox was the last to leave, giving Hiei a baleful look with his green eyes before disappearing down the steps. Now free of all distractions, Hiei admired the way the dim sunlight managed to reflect off of his katana. It was spotless, despite the slaughter of a few seconds ago.

Soon, it would once again be coated in red.

"Stop me?" he asked.

* * *

Stone and air whizzed by, each step less certain under his feet than the last. He couldn't wait to be on solid ground again. Stupid staircases.

"Hey, Kurama?"

"Yes, Kuwabara?" The fox had taken to covering the rear of the group, letting Yusuke and Victoria, with their recent adrenaline rushes, take control of the front.

"Do you have any clue which way we came from?"

But Kurama hadn't a chance to answer, since Holly suddenly gained a burst of energy and sprinted ahead of Kuwabara for a few yards. From her shoulders, Kyuro sniffed. "I do. We take a right at the end of the corridor, two lefts, a right, then the second gate on the left, down the basement-level tunnel, and we go in a straight line until the main hall."

The cat had an extraordinarily exact memory, and Kurama's Youko side was wondering just what the cat remembered after all these decades. For all anyone knew, Kyuro could just as easily be a living treasure map as much as he was a pest. Nowadays, however, it was most likely used to keep track of schedules for the familiar's long line of female charges.

They followed the directions exactly, amazed that the turns were correct. But the overall tension between the group increased the farther away from Hiei they got, as if he would die the second his energy was too far away to be sensed. It left people on-edge, touchy, nervous.

And then they came to the room. The pentacle in the center of the room was once again in place, as if it had never disappeared to begin with. They halted at the edge, Yusuke prowling around the edge of the black stone -- resembling a tiger all the while. To tell the truth, no one knew how to work it, and asking for volunteers seemed ridiculous.

"Alright, who wants to jump into the randomly-working booby trap of death?" Lark pointed at the pentacle, eyes hard. "I call not it. I fell in last time."

"How noble of you, my dear," muttered Victoria.

But Hanabi was thinking something else at the moment. "So, um, don't we need Hiei to go back home?" Silence invaded the room, until a pin could be heard. Finally, there was a loud crash, one that shattered the windows completely, and the cloaked figure pried himself out of the wall. Hiei fell to the ground, amidst the clatter of his katana.

He was in bad shape, Kurama knew, even before the fox rushed over to his friend's side. Blood was slowly rising where the stone had torn away patches of skin, and horrible bruises and welts were showing up from underneath the torn cloak. Despite the glare that Hiei focused upon him, Kurama gently patted down the demon's limbs and chest before sighing in frustration. Broken bones, cracked ribs, sprains and fractures, Hiei's internal organs seemed unharmed (thank Enma) but that wasn't a concrete fact, most likely a few torn ligaments...

Hiei got to his feet (It was painfully obvious that he had a slight limp), biting back the grunt of pain, and grabbed his sword, studying the way the blackish liquid dripped off its razor edge. True to his word, the blade was once again coated in blood, although it was nowhere near as red as it should have been; this blood was dead, sticky, thick and viscous, mixed with white specks of pus. It didn't flow, it oozed.

"Have fun?" Kyuro asked, crinkling his lip at the disgusting substance that Hiei was quickly cleaning off his weapon. The short demon only muttered a "Tch" before sheathing the blade. Kurama, however, was already making a checklist in his head of all the herbs and medicines he'd need to make sure that none of them would be hurting to badly by the time they got home. If they got home -- provided the portal would stop being so finicky.

The walls shook, Holly tensing at the vibrations, while Yusuke crouched down and ran a hand over the inlay of the pentacle's ring. "Alright, time to leave." The pentacle in the middle of the room remained unresponsive, all while the vibrations became more thunderous the closer they came -- although not nearly as earth shattering as the first. They all had a feeling that the first crash had been from It jumping down the tower of the spiral staircase, seeing as the stairs were far too small for It's giant hooves. And here they were, trapped, in the room that was the only exit from this world.

As the others started to argue and try to work out a means of escape, Hanabi tried to stay on the fringes of the conversation, but the voices inside were starting to get much too loud to ignore.

Hanabi-kun, is this as calm as they will get? Half of them look about ready to have a hernia.

Gee, I wonder why..? All that was on his mind, at the moment, was the thought of that beast suddenly appearing and snatching him up with those horrible fingers...

**Time to bring out the big guns, then, boy.**

You wouldn't...

**Yeah, I would. Time's a wastin'.**

_Hanabi, don't let him!_

Frankly, by now, he was rather lost at Their argument. He'd had more important things to pay attention to, and it seemed as if he'd caught the tail end of it, too. Big guns? Hanabi wasn't a fighter, he knew, and there was very little he could do in this situation, anyways.

**I suppose that I could get that gateway to open for a while.**

Good. Go jump in, already.

More useless banter, much of which simply annoyed him at the lack of urgency the Two had. The floor was starting to shake more violently, now. They didn't have long. Get it on with, Hanabi mentally muttered, hoping to get the voices to pull themselves together. Anything to leave this nightmare.

**Anything? Good. Leave me in charge, and it'll all be over.**

By now, he didn't care. Hanabi had let Him run his body before, and he doubted anything much worse could come out of it. As the other one's voice rose to a high-pitched nagging, he let himself slip below the surface, and just in time. For, out of the doorway, the little girl ran in, then turned back and called out for her gruesome caretaker.

He reacted quickly; already merging what little energy Hanabi had with His own, and channeled it down through his feet and into the metal pentacle. The spiritual energy crackled and jumped, leaping from the metal inlay towards the hidden spikes that jutted out of the pit's floor. So much like common human electricity, the mixed energy grounded itself, each time at the intersection of one of the star's points, and converged in the center, striking a peculiar little oblong shape of metal.

The bone fingers, the once human flesh having rotted away years ago, exploded from the heat of the power, and the crooked hands once again began to run. The miniature gears squealed at the sheer force that was pumped through the rusted pocket watch, and the black pentacle on the floor flickered before disappearing completely.

Just in time, too. That sickly odor was starting to penetrate the room, meaning that the walking corpse couldn't be far behind. He smirked back at the rest of His entourage, and flippantly made a shooing motion. "Go on ahead, jump."

Jin blinked; all too aware of the brilliantly orange eyes staring back at him. The wind master tensed, but one good whiff of rotting flesh coming closer, and Jin apparently decided that jumping into the unknown magical portal that was laced with metal spikes was _much_ better than just sticking around. Still, the redhead was the last to go, and floated above the pit, as flighty as a sparrow.

"You coming?"

He coughed, and paused to give the girl and her It a final flip of the finger before leaping into the death trap after the shinobi.

...

Jeebus, it was cold... he hadn't been home for what seemed like just a few hours, but he was sure that it hadn't been this chilly when he last left. He coughed and groaned, finally prying open eyelids that seemed to be frozen shut. The air was dry, but the oversized scarf that was tied around his neck protected his lower face from the brunt of the cold.

An tiny prick of cold, invisible against the hoary-gray sky, landed on his nose. Unable to contain himself, Hanabi crinkled his nose and sneezed.

"Welcome home," Holly answered.

* * *

Whooo! Doooonnnneeeee:headdesk: Hope you guys are having a good summer. My summer art program ends in a week or so, so updates are going to pick up. Especially once I kill off some of these Naruto plotbunnies. o. But I do adore Kiba and Hinata sooooo... :headdesk: but this marks the halfway point of this ficcy. Whoo... :finger-twirl:

Well, I have my brand new memory stick, so no more faulty floppy drives or cheap-o computers for me. D So much memory... at my fingertips... wheeee!


	23. Back with a Boom

Quote of the Week: "Skiing combines outdoor fun with knocking trees down with your face." - Dave Barry

Well, I know I've been very lazy about updating this summer. Very. No need to tell me twice. School is already coming up again in a few weeks, and I'm still not out of the 20's. x.x

On the bright side, at this rate, by the time I reach the April vacation bit, it may already really be April vacation! Again! ;;

* * *

"It is not freaky... it's called a growth spurt," Lyonell muttered for the last time, letting his bag drop to the floor out of annoyance. Taking a seat next to the cat demon, Yusuke snorted.

"Growth spurts don't make you grow eight inches."

"Hey!-"

"-In three months."

Lyonell, not feeling up to an argument with the spirit detective, merely growled and kicked at Justin's (vacant) seat in front of him. Indeed, the cat had gotten much taller, now exceeding Kuwabara's height; however, he also hadn't gained much weight to go with his taller frame. Slim to begin with, he looked unhealthily thin now. Any remnant of muscle tone he'd had before the group had left on "Mission: Rescue-Holly-At-All-Costs!" was nearly nonexistent.

Rogerik, seated behind Yusuke, the dark bags under his eyes slowly fading from the months long excursion without his friends, looked the cat up and down. "Seriously, though," He tiredly said, "You look... sick."

"Dude, you're the fourth person to tell me that since last Thursday." With a groan, Lyonell let his head thunk down on the desk, his paw-like feet sprawled in the aisle. "As if Chrys isn't enough... You guys are just all out to get me, aren't you?"

Yusuke and Rogerik shared looks, but their retorts were cut off as Suzuki (wearing a badly knitted scarf with his initials sewn onto the bottom end) came in. Now out of the chilly February air, the inventor whipped off the scarf as if it carried the plague, and looked around the room.

"Where's St. Pierre..?" When no one answered him, Suzuki sighed and sat down in his chair, wincing as the old, rusty, joints creaked and squealed under his weight. Pen strokes flourished across the page as the inventor took note of attendance, and he did a double take at Yusuke. "Well... if you aren't back from the dead. Again."

"Real funny," Yusuke muttered, glad that the reference to his former death went flying over the heads of the others. After all, it was one thing to be killed in a violent alternate dimension created by a cursed painting; to be hit by a car was entirely different.

The familiar fury of pounding fists on the door (followed by the, again, familiar busting open of the door) nearly made everyone jump to hide under their desks, teacher included. Aki, faced with a classroom of startled students, merely blinked and beamed at them. "Good morning!"

"Rapture..."

"What was the Suzuki-san?" The fairy tilted her head at the much taller man, and Yusuke had the feeling that she was resisting the urge to just float up in Suzuki's face. As usual, her wings were nothing more than a vaguely red-colored blur.

"Uh, actually," Suzuki wracked his mind for a plausible excuse, then his eyes seemed to light up. "Aki, would you run an errand for me?" He asked. When the fairy energetically bobbed her head (after a momentary pause in memory of the former "errands" she had been sent on, some of which had seen her away from the classroom for most of the day), the blond nearly sighed in relief. "Excellent. Could you go and find Justin again? He seems to be attempting to skip history class again."

"Oh, of course! That'll be no problem."

And, as quickly and mind-numbingly she had appeared, the foliage fairy had already left. Suzuki glanced up at the clock, then shrugged and flipped through a heavy textbook that had been in place on his desk. "She won't take long. Everyone, feel free to talk amongst yourselves quietly."

Immediately, the volume in the room doubled. Yusuke could only stare and blink in wonder of what the inventor had just said as his two friends swiveled in their respective seats to form a demented little circle of sorts.

"This isn't going to take long, and he knows it." Rogerik stated, jerking a thumb over at Suzuki. Lyonell nodded in reply. "Yeah... Justin always ends up hanging around the same corner on the path between the cafeteria and lake, in the end. He doesn't learn."

"It's like he's drawn to the same friggin' spot."

"Hypnotized," Lyonell suggested.

"Like a bug zapper... The light..."

Although Yusuke was feeling a bit out of the loop from his long absence, at least that joke earned a laugh. Perhaps it had been from his three-month-long excursion, but no matter where he went, the same uneasy feeling hovered over him like a cloud.

* * *

Behind her, a twig snapped, and she swiveled one furred ear to catch the sound better. This time of year, it could have easily have been the cold that made the noise, but it was best to be cautious. Although most of the teacher might've taken the day off to take advantage of the snow, that didn't mean that the day was an automatic skip day.

Another twig snapped, and this time she caught the suddenly sharp intake of breath as her follower stopped in their tracks. They knew that she had noticed them, and were thinking over what to do. Chrysanthemum ran through her possible choices through her head, and decided that the simplest method worked best, most often. So, tail twitching in the snow, the cat twin turned her head, then grinned in relief.

"Lark, you had surprised me..." But while Chrysanthemum was perfectly warm in an autumn jacket, long pants, and her own fur, the water manipulator was shivering, even among all her layers. Eyes nearly hidden underneath a large and fuzzy bucket hat, Lark glared and huffed warm breath into her scarf. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, her arms crossed against her chest, in a vain attempt to stay warm.

"It isn't like you to ruin your perfect attendance record, Chrys," Lark said, as muffled as it sounded behind the scarf. Chrysanthemum rolled her green eyes and turned back towards the hilltop, where the object of her affections was currently adjusting the straps on his snowboard. Curious as well, Lark picked her way through the brush among the trees, and joined the Aurata twin. "Who are we watching, again?"

"Shikyo-sensei, you twit!"

"Geez, I'm sorry if I'm not into my English **teacher**."

If looks could kill, Lark would have been paralyzed from the neck down by Chrysanthemum's eerie slitted-pupil-gaze. As it was, the twin gave Lark the cold solder and focused all of her attention on her black cat. "He's only about nineteen..."

"Wonderful," Was all that Lark spat out, staring up at her teacher with something between annoyance and curiosity. "You know," she muttered thoughtfully, "I don't know what's more annoying... that big-ass study guide he gave me for my Finals redo, or the fact that he can go snowboarding while we still have classes."

Both girls fell silent as the force of gravity took over, and their teacher skillfully weaved his way downhill. The cat demon sharply fishtailed the boat, sending a spray of snow into the faces of Ryo and Hisagawa (they had managed to find an antique toboggan somewhere on the school grounds), and his smirk could even be seen from the girls' hideaway. That smirk was wiped clean off Shikyo's face with the mere narrowing of Ryo's eyes, however, as something that only the cat demon could see seemed to interfere in his path. He swerved to the right, then left, only to find that his imaginary obstacle/opponent was moving to block him.

_CRRSHHH!_

Lark winced and Chrysanthemum's tail puffed out to twice it's normal size as the two girls peeked from between their fingers at the path in the snow that led to a stand of trees. A lovely path that the English teacher had carved out of the snow with his _face_.

"Ah! Shikyo-sensei!"

"Jeebus!" Lark and Chrysanthemum darted out from their hiding place and scurried over to the copse of trees, the light laughter of Ryo still ringing in their ears.

The world stopped flip-flopping, and he rubbed his head and face, trying to get the blood flowing again. His ears, although fur-covered, felt like they were frozen solid, and as he flicked them backwards he could feel little chunks of balled-up ice go flying. His board was unharmed, but one leg, the same one that had been in a cast just last summer, was throbbing horribly. And he had just managed to get the damn cast off a week before school started...

Deciding it would be best to check if he was as blind as he was cold, Shikyo forced his eyelids open, breath hissing between his teeth as melted snow dripped from his eyelashes and onto his actual eyes. Once the pain dulled over a bit, he couldn't help but blink at the blue hair and patterned wings of someone looming over him. Before the fairy could even talk, Shikyo raised a hand and managed to, more or less, sit up.

"We always meet in the worst situations, don't we, Clarice."

Clarice sighed and got to her feet, holding a hand down to help the teacher up. "I know... but at least you're alright-" Shikyo choked back a grunt of pain as he put weight on his throbbing leg, and the fairy backpedaled. "Well, you aren't dead yet."

"Thanks," he dryly stated. Despite the pain in his leg, the cat demon knelt down to undo the straps on his snowboard and dragged the board out of the snow. Butterfly wings making tracks in the snow, Clarice bent down to look at the injury and her eyebrows crinkled.

"Ow... you should go to the infirmary."

"I'll keep that in mind." And with that, and his snowboard handily repositioned for use as a cane, the cat started to hobble off towards the main building. He had walked a grand total of twelve feet when Clarice finally spoke up again.

"Want me to give you a ride over? I could probably stay airborne while carrying you..."

He was about to say no, and bravely continue hobbling, but common sense told him better. With a poorly hidden grumble, the cat demon slung his snowboard over his shoulder. "I guess that would be best-" He didn't even get to finish before he was hoisted into the air, the fairy wrapping her arms around his waist to lift him up. Beautifully detailed wings pumping steadily, she got a good ten feet off the ground by the time they had flown past the very bottom of the hill.

Down below, helping Ms. Hisagawa up from the overturned toboggan, Ryo chuckled. "Even injured, that furball draws them in."

"Ryo!" The exotic creature care teacher lost her grip of the elf-man's small hand, and fell back on her butt on the snow. Although normally kind and patient, the woman couldn't help but enjoy her coworker's screech as the cold snowball struck Ryo's ear. Winter wasn't as miserable as she had thought it could be...

* * *

"There you are!"

He nearly jumped at the voice, but managed to get a grip on himself. Instead of standing there, stuttering and trying to find an excuse for his truancy, like any other idiot punk, Justin decided to put his sudden burst of adrenaline (caused by the surprise) to good use.

Simply put, he ran.

Already, he had leapt down the stairs (luckily avoiding the patch of black ice at the bottom) and took off for the lake. The frost coating the brick pathway crackled beneath his thudding footsteps, but the sound was nearly drowned out by the constant buzzing of his pursuer's wings. The buzzing was getting louder, too...

With a snort of superiority, Justin braced one foot on the granite curb and leapt, regaining his balance as gravity dragged him down the frosted-over grass towards the banks of the lake. He tried to dig his heels in in time, grabbing onto brush for good measure, and finally came to a stop at the lake's edge, clinging onto a tree trunk to prevent himself from running right onto the ice.

Breathing heavily, Justin looked back up where he had left the path; his descent leaving defrosted and snapped shrubbery in his wake. There was no sound from Aki's wings... had she finally left him alone? No, it couldn't be; she never gave up this soon. But she couldn't possibly fly through the lower canopy of the trees; it was too thick, and there were no leaves to cushion the sharp twigs. Where could she..?

"EEEYYYAAAAAHHH!"

"Ho, Sh-!"

_Phwumph_!

They went flying backwards, the ice burning even through his jeans. And his hands... stupid him for thinking that he wouldn't need gloves this morning. When they finally slid to a stop, somewhere in the middle of the lake, his fairy attacker grinned down at him, her face framed by auburn-red hair. "Guess what class you're missiiing..!"

"...I hate you." Truthfully, he would have said more, but that was when the lake decided to interfere. Hairline fractures thickened and took on the formerly invisible spider web-shape that their impact had created. The two students scrambled to their knees (well, Aki had decided to hover, instead) and their eyes widened at the sight.

The lake ice was breaking... not that it had been very thick to begin with, but still. Now struggling to his knees, Justin shot a halfway desperate look up to Aki, already certain that he would never make it before the fragile surface beneath him shattered. As quick as Aki was, however, she only managed to lunge out and grab onto the younger teen just as the ice underneath him gave one final crack. Water dripped from his feet as she flew him to shore, forming little icicles on the end of his shoes.

Once again on the banks of the lake, Justin attempted to wring the ice water out of his jeans hem with his equally cold hands, and gave up with a sigh. The lack of feeling to his feet was just now starting to set in, which wasn't a pretty sight at all... As he attempted to stand back up on his own feet, the painful feeling of pins and needles shot through his leg. Dignity still fairly intact, Justin relied on the various trees and shrubs to pull himself back up the hill, a puzzled Aki trailing behind.

"Forget class... go home and take a hot shower..."

"I'm fine; Just need dry clothes."

"Well, the main office is closest... I think the cafeteria is full of younger students, today. And we don't want to scare them..."

"...Hate...you..."

"Hey, don't blame the messenger!" Aki whined, hovering over the younger boy's shoulder as he trekked towards the Offices, his legs already starting to go numb in the cold.

* * *

For the umpteenth time that day, the middle-aged secretary looked up over the tops of her bifocals to see a frozen and shivering youth stand before her. Only, this shivering youth had come by earlier that day to drop off his latest student assessments. And that time, he hadn't sported a familiar pair of crutches.

She sighed and straightened the stack of manila folders, before giving the English teacher a faint smile. "Shikyo, perhaps you should take a vacation?"

The cat's eyes narrowed, and he readjusted the snowboard strapped to his back. "That was my vacation."

"My, my..." She pursed her lips and tried not to laugh. How many times had she told her own sons to be careful when on the slopes and trails? Like many a mother, she'd seen a number of injuries, but never a bone broken twice in the same place. The poor boy before her had worse luck than he let on. "Well, I hope you get better soon."

"Like last time," an intern muttered as he passed by, long hair tied up in a sweeping ponytail of reddish-brown waves. Shikyo barely had time to catch the jaunty sway of the other man's hips before his eyes widened. "You," stated, pointing at the intern.

The intern turned, shifting his folders to one arm as he pushed his rhinestone-decorated glasses up his nose. "Good job, Shikyo. Me," He grinned, pointing at himself. The cat demon's ears twitched back, and he seemed to lean back on his crutches and more towards his uninjured leg.

"I don't recall you working here, Victoria."

"Oh, Victor? He, uh, she..? He?" The secretary pondered over what gender to call Holly's older brother, but smiled instead. "Anyways, Victor is a big help. Amazing with numbers, let me tell you; he even worked with Rachel to set up a plan so the school can pay back all its debts within the next eight years." She sighed. "I can't even stand balancing my checkbook, never mind the salaries of all the faculty."

At this, Shikyo made a choking noise, and Victoria tilted a head at the teacher, glossed-up lips forming a gentle smile. "Ah, might you need some help, there? A cough drop, perhaps, Shi-kun?"

What was more amazing than the pace the cat was able to keep up on crutches, however, was the size his black tail had puffed out to. Gleefully, Victoria waved his now-coworker off. "I'll see what I can do about upgrading that health plan of yours!"

It had taken a full elevator ride, and then some (because he had felt like jamming it up for everyone else and hit the basement level and fourth floor button numerous times before getting off on the third floor), before he managed to simmer down enough to calmly stride out of the elevator. The hall was spacious, the walls covered with stacked canister-shaped student mailboxes, and Shikyo stopped by the water bubbler to fill himself a paper cone-shaped cup before disappearing into the Student Files room. Not that he really had any work to do... but anything was better than sitting around with a brand new cast. Afternoon classes had drawn to a close a few minutes ago, anyways.

The door to the stairwell creaked open, the rusty hinges in dire need of maintenance. Shikyo grimaced at the noise, nails nearly crushing his cone-cup. Nearly everything on campus was in need of some sort of repair or upgrade. Stupid cut educational funds...

"Oh, hey man..." Lyonell walked past his twin's teacher and knelt down by a section of canister mailboxes next to the Files room doorway. Shikyo nodded, downing the cup with one gulp and tossing the cheap little cone into the trash bin next to the water cooler. Some smart aleck little snot had pasted a large sticker that read "FIRE EXTINGUISHER" on the side of the off-white unit. The teacher eyed the sign while talking to the taller student.

"What are you doing up here? Most mail is delivered to the dorms."

"Yeah, but I got a call over the intercom that a package came in for me. The secretary made a big deal of it when I came in, and then the elevator wasn't working... kept on stopping on the basement level."

"Ah." As if just being in the same room with Lyonell would unearth the truth about his elevator joyride, Shikyo readjusted his crutches and hobbled into the Student Files room. The blond cat crinkled his nose at the sight of the familiar cast and looked up, a small box in hand. "What happened to your leg?"

"Snowboarding accident. Nothing much. Gotta get to work, bye!" As suddenly as the English teacher had spouted out the story of his broken leg, the door to the Files room slammed shut, and Lyonell's green eyes just widened in curiosity. "What in the world..?"

As soon as one door slammed shut, another seemed to be barraged open, and Lyonell was met with another victim of winter's vengeance. At the end of the hallway, Justin, dressed in a pair of khaki brown shorts (most likely rescued from the Lost & Found) with his sopping jeans thrown over one arm, his hair damp and free of gel, stalked past empty rooms and private offices. Noticing his roommate, however, the human slowed his pace.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed. Lyonell only grinned, trying to hide the box (and it's gaudy yellow ribbon) behind his back.

"Hey, you know, funny thing... you're not the first one to ask me that-"

"Tell me why you're here," Justin stated, clearly, seeming even more hot-tempered than usual. Lyonell fought back a gulp, edging closer to the wall as he felt for an empty mailbox to stash his package in until Justin left. It wasn't often that someone saw such a suspicious look from his roommate. Even now, he could notice the way Justin seemed to be circling him. Better ditch the box and fake stupid.

"I was, uh, just meeting Shikyo-sensei here for some homework help. He told me he was running an errand for Rachel in the Student Files room."

Right about now was the part where the Spanish Inquisition would tie him up to a gurney, place him under a giant swinging axe blade, and scream "Lies! Lies!" as they doused their torches with his scalp.

Although not quite as violent, Justin could certainly have much the same effect.

"Then what are you-" Lyonell noticed Justin's eyebrows lift, and suddenly wished that Shikyo would pop back out the Files room door; or Laird Michealangelo to make his usual oozing-cool-like-nobody's-business rounds along the halls; or for Rachel to come along and give them detention for loitering. Suzuki unicycling, even, while juggling hand grenades. _Anyone, _so long as they would distract Justin. "Who's the present from?"

"Hey, that's confidential information." There was no use pretending that it wasn't his, and the cat demon suddenly got a brilliant new idea, one that he hadn't thought of amidst all the teasing he had gotten.

Use his height to his advantage. Duh. If his sister (or older brother, for that matter) were here, he was certain he would have been whapped over the head and called a dunce.

Already, he was a good half-foot taller than Justin, and with the box held high up above his head, Lyonell was sure that there was no way his roommate would ever reach it. Brown eyes darker than they had been in years, even more so than the infamous Trap-pitfall-in-Suzuki's-classroom fiasco, the human merely glared at his cat-like friend; and, if only Lyonell hadn't been close to breaking out in a show-stopping number about the fact that he was finally winning _something_, the two might have come to some sort of agreement before anyone got hurt.

Not that stupidity or ignorance ever caused _anyone_ pain, right?

No, this time the muse of pain came in the form of an overly curious college-aged fairy. Aki had followed Justin in his quest for dry pants, not all-too-entirely ready to let the younger student skip the entire day of school. After all, if frostbite hadn't set in on the walk to the office, there was no way it would affect him in a heated building.

As Lyonell toyed with Justin, taunting the shorter boy to take the gift-wrapped package by force, Aki had quietly hovered along behind. Lyonell's tall frame proved no obstacle for her, what with her wings and flying and all... In fact, she had already read the tag (which had been, unremarkably, unmarked) and was fingering the soft satin of the ribbon by the time the two boys had noticed she was even there.

"Hey!" Ears turned back, Lyonell jerked the box away from Aki's curious touch, and as the knot of the ribbon slipped, time seemed to slow. All was eerily quiet for those few fragments of a second, and the fairy had time to catch the wide-eyed, unspeakable, horror that Justin's face showed

Minding his own business, Shikyo shuffled through the numerous manila folders, some thicker than others, a select few nearly bursting with papers and forms; he wasn't even through a fraction of them, and he had been going to this room since late August. He could hear the argument outside, although it was muffled and faint, even with his select hearing. Still, nothing to interfere in; they were big kids... they could settle it on their own without a referee.

That was when the room rocked violently and all hell broke loose. Heeding to his responsibilities, the cat demon lunged for the door, his cast and former task forgotten.

Stacked on the floor, in numerous and towering piles, the most recent section he had been working on toppled, as smoke poured in through the door.

* * *

:cue dramatic music: ...Cliffhanger, or lazy writer? Find out in..!

...Chapter 24!

:more dramatic music, this time paired with the all-powerful dramatic wind and shoujo-style dramatic sparkles (don'tcha love dramatic?):

But, until next time, remember to tell your fellow YYH-loving friends about this story. May the geekdom spread!


	24. If This Qualifies as Normal

Quote of the Week: "Man is the only animal that can remain on friendly terms with the victims he intends to eat until he eats them." - Samuel Butler

For some reason I had Vamo alla Flamenco stuck in my head as I wrote this. And, in case you're looking for it, it's on the Final Fantasy 9 soundtrack.

I adore that game... Who needs an angsty reluctant hero when you have a party member that chucks weapons at the enemy?

* * *

"...Could've been much worse..."

"..But why in the world..? Everything was fine... earlier..."

"This says loads... Reputation's going down the drain..."

"--ey're both idiots!"

Voices floated in and around him, their meaning just out of reach for his groggy mind. Talking... he could recognize some people - Shikyo, for one. Even as he forced his eyes open, the action slow and distantly painful, as if he had been given an extra dose of aspirin, he could make out the slim figure supported by crutches.

Something moved to block his vision, and he realized that someone had sat down next to his infirmary bed. _Jeebus..._ he awkwardly crinkled the hem of the starched cotton sheets in one hand, glancing up at the strangely expressionless face above him before his eyelids, feeling heavier than he had ever recalled before in his life, shut. Blood pounded through his temples, sending him into a wave of nausea when his head rolled back into the pillow.

He'd never been hurt this bad... or, at least he didn't think he had. Everything was so fuzzy.

"Chrysanthemum, you should really go back to the dorm. It's late. Get some sleep," said Shikyo, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. She barely budged under his touch, then suddenly flung off his hand as she stood up, leaving faint scratch marks from his dull claws on her shoulder. Her tail hung lifelessly, nearly sweeping the ground, as she strode across the linoleum and the other full bed.

"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow, Shikyo-sensei."

Monotone and low, Chrysanthemum's voice barely reached the ears of the teachers gathered in the room. After the infirmary door clicked shut, all that could be heard were the crickets -- a comforting white noise to the horror of earlier that day.

And it had indeed been a horror... how in the world had an explosive made it onto school property. Not only that, but it had snuck it's way though the front office, the alarm wards, and even all of the teachers. Things like a simple, homemade bomb just didn't show up in the mail at an academy filled with spiritually powered students and faculty.

Ever.

To use such a simple weapon, one that even didn't make it past security of simple human public schools, and assault a student and innocent bystanders... It reeked of ignorance -- ignorance that could easily be considered genius on the part of the attacker.

Shikyo tugged the covers of Lyonell's bed up, and readjusted his crutches before waving off Rachel and Suzuki. He was exhausted -- too much so to even bother thinking about the day's events. "I should take my own advice," he mumbled, making his way to the door, only to pause and check over Aki's bed. The fairy had escaped fairly unscathed, besides her now charred wingtips and obvious shock. There had been shards of plastic embedded in her arms -- shrapnel of exploding mailboxes as she had tried to protect her face -- but they had been extracted and the skin hastened to grow over the wounds by the nurse, once the fairy had fallen asleep with aid of a painkiller drug.

"Shikyo... try not to worry too much about this," Suzuki began, ignoring the angry glare the cat demon gave him. The English teacher nearly hissed at the comment. "What? Some students - your students - were attacked by means of a bomb. A bomb!"

"Calm down. I'm sure he didn't mean to have it come out that way," Rachel warned, ready to shove the other teachers out if they started a particularly nasty argument.

"Not only were a bunch of kids put in danger, but it happened under our noses! We had completely no idea--"

By now, it seemed even the night insects had gone quiet.

"Something like this could ruin the school if parents start to panic, and instead of doing something we're leaving the probable source of all this for Reikai to deal with. It was this academy's responsibility to begin with..!"

"Enough." The inventor's face was blank, empty. There was nothing to be told, really, by now. "While you rushed these 'kids' to get medical help, did you ever think that maybe there might have been a motive to the mail bomb?"

Another silence, and, again, the crickets seemed to be hiding away.

"I can't blame you for worrying about the students first, but you do know that this might have been a diversion. As we all know, Lyonell isn't the type to make enemies of any kind."

Rachel sighed. "As much as you want to play Nancy Drew, sirs, I think that this topic has worn itself out," she paused to shush Shikyo before the younger teacher could even open his mouth. "There's nothing we can do, tonight. Now, will both of you leave before you wake the entire building up?"

There was also nothing the two teachers could do against the human headmistress, but Shikyo did make quite the display of slamming the door behind him, crutches and all. Suzuki only gave the sleeping students one last baleful look before gently shutting the door, leaving the headmistress alone in the white-walled room.

With her two employees gone, Rachel sighed in frustration and gently patted the sleeping cat boy's head, only to sharply recoil her had when he turned in his sleep. She gave one final look around the room, mouth frozen into a grim frown.

"This year just keeps getting better and better..." She flipped the light switch and closed the door behind her.

* * *

"Hey, hey, didja hear?" The girl slammed her tray down at the end of the picnic table, cutting him off as she scurried to be seated with her friends. As if they were of a hive mind, the gaggle of females leaned in to partake of the gossip.

Hanabi sighed, and veered off to the middle of the aisle, scanning the almost-too-small cafeteria for an empty seat. Normally, the room was nearly empty, since many students took to the outdoor picnic tables for lunch, but the winter snowfall had yet to slow down, and no one was particularly happy to eat their lunch out in the frigid cold.

An older student, a tall demon boy with mottled yellow and green skin, bumped into Hanabi, his face turning into the pure picture of shock and surprise as he lifted his ice cream high above the younger teen's head. As the clumsy upperclassman apologized, Hanabi merely brushed the nuts from the king cone treat out of his hair and decided to rethink the whole "too-cold-to-eat-outside" bit. He just wanted to find his friends and have lunch... Why was the world so against him?

_It's bad kaarmaaa..!_

Ergh... Now he had to go through this again. Every day since their return home, They had been unusually active. While one went on, nagging about karma and positive versus negative energy (and the constant theory that Hanabi was going to end up as a roach in his next life if he kept taking advice from Him), He had been hazing His host like no tomorrow.

Hanabi sighed and went back to looking through the tables, desperately wishing for a vacation. It figured that they had come back right after winter break had ended.

"I heard that some of the older students got caught in some accident!"

"Wasn't it an explosion, or some messed up project..? Then again, I could be wrong..."

"Who cares? I heard that one of the Aurata twins -- you know, those blond cats? -- well, one of them was involved. And so was Aki, the assistant teacher!"

At this, Hanabi nearly turned around to openly stare at the girls who had so callously shoved him off their table. But the warning comment of '_Don't you daaare... _' from the back of his mind made him think of another way he could eavesdrop - forget being a roach next time around the block. Ducking behind one of the pillars that supported the cafeteria roof, the timid boy focused all his energy into just hearing the gossip over the dull roar of lunchtime chatter.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Oh, I have a friend in their floriculture class!"

"...The boy twin does flower arranging?"

"Hey, it's a respectable position--"

"--_SO_ much like your own brother, the gothic Lolita, right?"

The table exploded into giggles, accompanied by the higher-pitched "Shut up!" of the target girl. Hanabi sighed, and thoughtfully munched on his celery sticks. It was a pity he hadn't found out anything... especially since it was difficult to blend in with his stark-white hair.

_Hey, don't give up yet, you twit!_ More nagging... lovely. There was a sharp twinge of pain in the back of his skull, and Hanabi suddenly found his body unable to move. Damn Them!

"All right, all right... sorry," the girl mumbled, drinking out of her milk carton so as to hide her wide smile.

"You better be."

"Anywho, guess what else I found out."

"Nah... come on, just tell us!"

"Yeah! You were practically bursting to tell us a bit earlier!"

"Okay! Jeebus!" More giggles, and Hanabi caught the cluster of younger girls lean in towards each other and whisper, the image reflected in the large glass of soda at the table opposite the column he hid behind. Finally ready to get on with his life, he started gnawing on another celery stick.

"There was another kid there, too. You know that Justin guy, from the website we found?"

"Oh, yeah, the prick who scared the crap out of us back in October." (The comment nearly made Hanabi choke on his celery -- he found the description of the moody boy true, and hoped that Justin never found out about it.)

"Yeah, well, he was in the middle of the explosion, too, and he didn't get a scratch on him. Nothing!"

The entire group fell silent, and Hanabi took that as his cue to hastily leave.

* * *

He carefully slipped the string around the spindly stems, tying the ends into a knot and tightening the loop so that the plant stood erect against the bamboo pole. He was nearly through with his assigned patch, and then he had to work on Lyonell's section afterwards, considering the cat demon had missed class again.

Kurama straightened, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he stared at the large fan that attempted to keep the air circulating in the greenhouse. Stealing a peek at the clock, the fox grimaced, and made a quick look-around of the other students' progress. That was when he first bothered to notice that something was wrong.

As usual, he was ahead of everyone else in his task, but Chrysanthemum, who matched his speed only through sheer tenacity, was lagging behind. That wasn't to say it was from lack of effort - she still lashed and tied the plants to their new supports as fast as she possibly could have; but her knots came undone, some of the more tender stalks snapped or were crushed, and the bamboo was close to falling out of the dirt-filled pots. Kurama just stared in surprise; he had never seen Chrys, who strove for perfection in anything she did, produce such a hack-job as this. That was usually Lyonell's role.

Before the cat demon could complain, Kurama was beside her and gently re-tying the plant to its bamboo stake. Pushing the rod deeper into the dirt, the fox asked, "Chrys, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she snapped, then turned her attention to the next plant. The fragile wood snapped in her hands as she drove it into the soil, splinters lodging themselves in her palm.

"Ah..." He didn't want to push her, after all. Everyone was entitled to a bad day. So, as innocently as possible, he decided to change the subject. "How is your brother, anyways? He hasn't been to any classes for two days, now."

The redhead was shoved to the side as Chrysanthemum walked past, her tail lashing back and forth angrily as she tossed the broken bamboo over her shoulder. She paused on her way out the door, when questioned about what she was doing.

"I'm going to the infirmary."

And, leaving a very confused (and suspicious) Kurama behind, the cat girl left.

* * *

At the sight of the young girl seated cross-legged on the floor, her white hair deftly manipulated by the slender hands of the older man seated gracefully upon the couch, Yusuke snorted. Taking the remote in hand, the spirit detective flopped down on the couch, pressing the power button as he did so. Late afternoon, with nothing to do, what else but channel surf?

"You know, you could at least watch something educational for once," Victoria muttered, braiding Embyr's hair as if he were a professional. The fox girl, seated on the floor, only turned the page in her book and gave her fox pet a fond pat on the head. "You could read... but then the shock might cause the others to develop heart problems."

"Shove it, brat." The channel changed from infomercials to a rather loud action movie. Bullets beat out a high-paced tempo as badly portrayed Mexicans fell off of water towers while the main hero shot up everything in sight, a sawed-off shotgun in each hand. Besides the sheer illogical choice and use of weapons, it seemed that the Mexican enemies were also communists in cahoots with aliens plotting world domination. It didn't take long for the channel to change again.

"Here, an animal documentary. Enjoy." He got up again and placed the remote on the coffee table before pulling up a stool at the kitchen island and grabbing a plum. Victoria used his teeth to slide the elastic off of his wrist and tied up the fox girl's new French braid, then leaned back, arms stretching across the backrest of the couch.

"Now, now, Yusuke. What skillfully lodged itself up your rear, today?"

The spirit detective only gave the cross dresser a dirty leer. "Isn't any of your business."

"Oh, wait! The St.Pierre boy, he's a friend of yours, right? I heard about it in the office-" Victoria broke off his sentence, eyes on Holly, who seemed to be in a daze as she walked down the stairs. The witch clumsily swerved around Embyr, only to collapse on the couch cushion next to her brother. She squeaked and shifted her weight, pulling a leg bone out from under the cushion.

"Hey! Don't sleep in the couch," Holly yelped, scooting away from the spinal vertebrae and canine skull that was reconstructing itself in the crack between the cushions. Bones only gave the girl a firefly-eyes stare before grouchily clambering onto the floor. Ignoring the stares that the humans (and demon) had so tactfully employed, the dog skeleton yawned and flopped down on the rug before the hearth, stretching his legs and curving his back as if he were a cat instead of a dog. Paws sticking straight up in the air, Bones continued his nap.

Embyr was first to break contact with the dog, and was soon back to turning the pages of her book after glancing at the T.V. "You know," she murmured, " I doubt that's appropriate for younger viewers."

Holly looked baffled, asking "what?" before finally looking at the screen. She blanched and lunged for the remote, flipping the channel again so that a stand-up comedian dominated the screen. "Jeebus, Yusuke! Let the kid watch desert toad porn, why don't you!"

"Toad... porn?" Yusuke chucked the plum pit into the trash, and rinsed off his hands. "Do I want to ask?"

"No," was Victoria's reply. Holly, however, elaborated.

"You're banned from the remote until Embyr can move into another dorm."

Silence at first, interrupted only by the rustle of paper, but then it slowly dawned on Yusuke and Victoria both. "What!"

The spirit detective leaned on the kitchen island, muttering something about personal rights, while Victoria only looked at his younger sister and horror. "You can't be serious," the crossdresser said, placing a possessive hand on Embyr's head, right between her oversized fox ears. "There's no way she can leave! If I'm staying, then so does she!"

"... What?" Embyr looked up at the sound of her name, not quite certain she liked her role in this argument. But, while Yusuke could only stare in shock, Holly at least tried to make heads or tails of the situation. "What do you mean by staying? You have to go home, too, you know!"

"That's where you're wrong, dear sister! Why, not only have I landed a job here at the academy offices in the business and funding administrations, but guess what?" His green eyes practically sparkled in mischief, and the other inhabitants of the room (Bones excluded) could feel the blood drain from their faces. Apparently mistaking the lack of applause for sheer, overwhelming joy, Victoria jumped up. "Since Rachel is so busy as headmistress, I'm going to be one of your active supervisors!"

"A-ah..." Holly couldn't quite find anything to say at this surprise, and the thick book slid out of Embyr's lap with a thud. In fact, neither girl could've said anything if they wanted, for at that time Victoria had enveloped them in a crushing hug.

Good lord, things were just going to keep going downhill...

* * *

Chapter...late... school... started... must stop... typing...like I'm... Captain... Kirk. x.x

Review..? They make me happy. Oh, yes they dooo!


	25. Bullshit

Quote of the week:

Me: Yeeeeaaaah... people tend to leave that out. I mean, what sort of glorious life is a newbie vampire supposed to have if they're stuck drinking blood from homeless bums? It'd make for quite the embarrassing first few decades.

Jasper Riddle: I'd love to read a story from that perspective. Or at least this line in it:  
"Yeah, the first few decades were a pain in the ass. I've never gotten blood from anyone high-class, so I don't know if there's a difference, but I'll tell you this: a bum's blood ain't the greatest."

Gaiaonline is fun. x.x

I is upating... wow. o.o Beat me over the head with a haddock. Now.

* * *

Claws dug into pale skin. Blond hair fell to the floor in bloodied, dirty clumps. A tail lashed back and forth angrily in the dark. It was getting colder and colder. Harder and harder to breathe, now...

_Am I dying..?_ A while ago, she'd heard that if you died suddenly and violently in your dream, your body would by so convinced by the dream that you could die in your sleep. It was an urban legend, really, about some kid who had dreamt he was falling, someone suffered a major heart attack from the shock of falling out of his bad and waking up just before his dream-self hit the hard, dream-concrete.

Dream or not, she didn't like suffocating, so she did perhaps one of the most difficult things any teenager could do.

She woke herself up.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds of her shared bedroom, and the cat demon breathed a sigh of relief, but not before noticing the way her own breath clouded before her face. Chrysanthemum wrapped her fleece blanket around herself and trudged to the open window, wondering what had ever passed Aki's mind to leave the window open in the middle of February.

She let her forehead fall against the ice-cold glass with a dull thunk, eyes focusing and zoning out again repeatedly on the hexagonal designs created by the frosted ice crystals. Once only a faint nightmare, earlier in the year, the starkness of the violence in the dream scared her.

"Chrys, get down here before we eat everything!"

She groaned and wrapped her blankets even tighter around her slim frame, glad to hear her brother so early in the morning.

It was a welcome reality check compared to the image of his hands around her neck.

* * *

"Come on, Urameshi! You went over this type of crap with Genkai!"

"If there was one useful thing the old hag never taught me, it was how to play Bullshit."

"Bullshit," Lyonell cheerfully proclaimed, flipping over the newly placed threes and ace. The cat demon slid the pile of cards over to Yusuke, who begrudgingly shuffled them into his hand.

Kuwabara, with only a single card left in his possession, nodded over to Lark. "It's on fours, now."

"Right." More cards were tossed down, now the new base of the soon-to-be towering card pile, and Yusuke snorted. "This sucks. Whoever came up with the idea for this game should be shot." Lyonell and Kuwabara merely blinked, then pointed to the only girl player. Under the sprit detective's scrutinizing glare, Lark cringed. "I have, in no way, shape, or form, ownership of the game 'Bullshit'."

"But you're still bullshitting that hand, right?" Yusuke asked, pointing at the five cards on the table.

Perhaps it was for the greater good of the other players, but the spirit detective chose to ignore the breathing problem Kuwabara had come down with. Lyonell only shook his head in shame, and flipped the cards over.

All fours.

"What the crap! Come on, don't tell me you expect me to believe that's right!" As he slammed his fist against the table, Lark coyly grinned. With a poised, graceful hand, she slid the five cards over to Yusuke. "We're playing with a double deck, remember?"

"Who's dumb-ass idea was that? Tell me!"

Kuwabara, Lyonell, and Lark only shared glances, before two fingers were pointed at the carrot-top. With an expression akin to the shock one experiences when their puppy decides to play in the middle of an intersection, Kuwabara stood up from the table, and out of reach of Yusuke. "Don't blame me. You said it would be a good handicap, to counter my precognition."

Lyonell cleared his throat. "Well, it was a good idea at the time..."

"But that was before we found out Yusuke really, really sucks at this game," Lark finished.

Outnumbered (and with the end-of-lunch bell about to ring in mere minutes), Yusuke slumped down on the table. "I give up, then." In fact, he was tired. Very much so; tired enough to ignore Lark's "My, aren't you a go-get-'em detective?" comment. Even as students began to wander towards the building and, thus, away from the picnic table they were seated on, he didn't bother to pay attention. It was only when, as Lyonell was busy reshuffling the cards into one big deck, the cat demon grabbed Yusuke's scattered (and sizeable) hand of cards a bit too quickly and accidentally gave the teen a small paper cut, that made him flinch and open his eyes in surprise that he bothered to move.

And, in that second he opened his eyes, Yusuke thought he saw - if only for a moment - Justin climbing over the concrete wall on the opposite end of the courtyard, most likely on his way towards the pond. Except, that wouldn't have been very likely, given the circumstances.

Ever since the bomb-threat last week, Justin had been temporarily moved to a solitary dorm closer located in the main office building. He had been exempt from classes, and not a single student had seen him since.

Not that they really cared; everyone was plenty happy to gossip about the event without the horrible glare or ferocious temper of the human boy. New details kept on being "discovered", people formed their own theories as to the attacker's intentions, and fingers had already begun to point, all without aid of the actual victims.

But one thing was the same: whenever Lyonell rolled up his sleeves to work in the greenhouse, revealing the peachy-tan bandages underneath, no one dared mention the subject.

So, after the first possible sighting of Justin in a week, Yusuke could only come up with one phrase to communicate what he had seen to his friends...

"What the crap was that?"

Hearing that particular phrase from Yusuke wasn't exactly a once-in-a-lifetime-moment, so the other three students continued to pack up their things, oblivious to the teen's comment.

Oblivious, that is, until the dozen over-sized bats that Ryo kept as pets decided to tear through the trees; they dropped out of sight, over the concrete wall, hot in pursuit of Justin - if it even really _had_ been him.

The bell rang out, and students began to mosey on inside. All across the lawn, textbooks were shut, bags were flung onto shoulders, clusters of people attempted to fit through the doors that were only big enough for a single file line. From their concrete patch, a group of hacky-sack players went around once more, before the bean-filled toy was spiked into the air and the smallest of the group - a demon boy not much older than twelve - chased after it. Slightly familiar faces popped up in the crowd, only to be swallowed up again.

In the middle of trying to merge into the group, Yusuke shot a look at Kuwabara. As if on cue, the two of them disappeared from the mass of students, losing Lark and Lyonell in the process, and ducked around the building corner.

"You feel it, too?" Kuwabara finally asked, once certain no one had followed. Yusuke, hands on his knees as he leaned against the school building, only shrugged. "As if that wasn't weird. A bunch of bats in the daytime," he paused and snorted. "Ryo must be going senile - oof!"

He raised a hand, attempting to avoid the needled branches that were so determined on jabbing his eyes out; Kuwabara shoved down on his shoulder, forcing Yusuke to kneel. As the taller boy bent down next to Yusuke, his hand resting heavily on the smaller teen's shoulder, they heard light footsteps go past their shrubbery. Yusuke's eyes widened at the sight of Ryo just wandering school grounds during the middle of a class period.

Even bundled up in his fuzzy, maroon sweater, the elf looked more than a little upset at his predicament. He cocked his head, as if trying to listen better, then eyed the concrete wall. With a quick look around to make sure no one was watching, he headed towards the staircase leading to the lakeside path...

... And broke out into a run.

In all the time he had been in presence of the elf, Yusuke had never seen Ryo run, and that was enough of a clue to figure out something was seriously wrong. With an unspoken nod between the two of them, the Japanese teens burst out of the bushes and followed Ryo.

Various signed graffiti became a blur as they ran past, harsh concrete finally giving way to barren trees and the dusty brick pathway. Yusuke barely had the chance to wonder just where Ryo and Justin had ran - it wasn't totally impossible for them to have gone off the path - before Kuwabara pointed out the direction of the teacher's energy much like a hunting dog.

"Are you sure/' Yusuke asked, scanning the many walking trails that branched off the main path. The carrot top only gave Yusuke an incredulous look before coughing into his hand and following the difficult-to-miss trail of broken branches and trampled grass. With a glare, Yusuke snorted. "Fine, we'll go your way."

"So... how's that sixth sense coming along?" Yusuke swung his leg over the trunk of an overturned tree, and rolled his brown eyes at Kuwabara's back. The taller teen just kept tromping through the woods, not at all amused.

"Shut up, Urameshi."

"Sit on it," he replied, and was, quite literally, forced to eat his own words. As a single mass of dark-brown fur and fragile wings, the bats that had garnered his attention in the first place came swooping down out of the trees, gliding low to the ground and sharply pulling up just in front of Yusuke -- surprising the spirit detective enough to step back, and trip over the horizontal tree behind him.

Any snarky comments the two might have made were suddenly wiped from their minds, for a very familiar voice had managed to be heard above the furious flapping of wings.

"Would you take some responsibility, for once?"

"Responsibility for what! I didn't do anything!" That was Justin, it had to be. After months of sharing classes, Yusuke had gotten quite used to his tone of voice whenever Justin got agitated.

Although neither one of the two boys would ever claim to be proud of eavesdropping, they both hid in the shrubbery and listened to the argument intently.

'Even though I didn't get blown up or anything, like Lyonell, I'm just as much a victim here!"

"A victim that, although technically innocent, runs off or becomes defensive whenever they are questioned?"

"S-shut up! The other two got sent back to classes, but you dragged me out of my own dorm. Then, you _interrogate_ me! I've had enough with your bullcrap!"

Kuwabara felt a chill run up his spine at the sudden spike of reiki, a slight tremor in the overwhelming waves of spiritual energy that came from the student body and staff; it was so slight, there was no way anyone could have noticed where it came from -- if they weren't only ten feet away from it's source.

Ryo looked unruffled by Justin's outbursts: professional, unmoved, but not uncaring. As a teacher, he had been through this sort of thing multiple times with far more frightening students. And, as only a centuries-old adult could, he had a wealth of common sense stored up for such an event.

'First, calm down," he started, but to no avail; Justin was still as tense and angry as before. Mentally, Ryo griped at the situation, but aloud said, "Think this through rationally. What seems more suspicious? Option A: a mature witness that voluntarily gives information, or, option B, a temperamental teenager that runs off whenever the subject is brought up?"

"Raaargh!" The fist came flying out of nowhere, intent on colliding with the teacher's ribs. Instead, Justin found himself caught in a rather uncomfortable headlock, kudos to Kuwabara; in front of him, shoulder braced to shove him to the ground, was a ready and waiting Yusuke.

Restrained by his own friends, Justin was even more speechless when Ryo's cell phone went off. The elf answered it, to the astonished looks from his students, and indifferently replied to the receiver. "Hello?"

None of the boys could make out what was coming from the phone, but every now and again Ryo would nod and shift his glance in their direction. Finally pocketing the phone again, the elf turned his back to them.

"You're free to go, Justin. That call was from the offices -- someone stole some student files during the attack. The human merely blinked at his speedy release. "Say what?" Even while holding Justin's hands behind the boy's back, and with the other arm wrapped firmly around the boy's neck, Kuwabara felt like muttering out a "whuh?" as well; Yusuke appeared to be as equally confused, as well.

"Don't act foolish. As far as we know from watching you, you have no motive to steal papers, and were too busy being treated for a possible concussion at the time. You're off the hook."

Leaving the three boys with the slow realization that, not only was Justin being let off for nearly attacking a teacher, but the boy's solitary conditions were over, Ryo weaved his way though the undergrowth, disappearing into the trail.

Any idiot student from a different school would have been cheering from now, but all three of them knew the type of info stored in school files. If the information had gotten into the wrong hands... well, how much more trouble could it cause?

As they would soon learn, a lot.

* * *

Short, I know... but I have two pages of 26 typed out already. >.> By the way, is anyone entering the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) contest?

It's tempting, for me, but I doubt you folks would like to have this fic be slowed down any more than it already is. x.x

On the bright side, next chapter!

Valentine's Day rolls around!  
Yusuke is jinxed! (uh, oops?)  
February 14th... Koryu's bithday? Say what?

Have fun at school! wait, fun..? I dunno. I died. x.x


	26. Who Would've Thought?

Quote of the week: " If there is one thing I don't want you doing today, it is going home and telling your parents you learned that President Lincoln smoked pot." - Mr.Simendinger

Has anyone ever played the game "Zap!" ? It's just one of those little school kid lunch-break games, but if you don't know how it works you probably won't get the little joke behind Embyr's revenge.

Ah, whatever. I'll write down the rules to it at the end of the chapter, just not to spoil the joke. Have fun reading, folks.

* * *

Lunch break. Embyr hadn't even wanted to go to class this Thursday, hadn't cared whether missing even one day would make her grades - namely in Latin class - plummet due to the crappy scheduling of her classes.

After all, who had ever heard of being stuck in a class about Latin verbs for three hours?

And lunch hadn't appealed to her, either. Yes, she was hungry, but not nearly hungry enough to go into the cafeteria, which was where Victoria was sticking to his/her shift of lunch monitor duty. She hadn't wanted to run to the dorm and fix herself lunch, as well.

So, having nothing much to do, the fox girl found herself a quiet spot along the oak-lined pathways to lean against a tree and read; the location was perfect for the occasion: close to her classes, but just far enough off the brick pathways so people wouldn't bother talking to her. Daffodils and tulips swayed on their stalks, flourishing in the flowerbed that rose up out of the ground twenty feet in front of her. If anything, she would've loved to just doze off and go back to the dorm before the final bell rang.

"Why aren't you in class?" The familiar voice asked, making the kitsune stick a finger between the pages (god forbid she have to search for her spot, afterwards) and attempt to peek around the thick tree trunk.

"It's lunch, Ayame."

"I know that," he said, settling down next to her. "But why aren't you off doing some extra credit, or whatever it is you usually do?" If she hadn't already been returning to her book, his unusual conversational mood might have startled her. When she continued to ignore him, the demon leaned against the tree and observed the tiny buds that sprouted from twigs.

"I hate the class I have today."

"Hm?" Ever since meeting the fox-girl in November, Ayame had never heard her claim that she hated any class. Now, as he shifted his red-eyed gaze to her, he noticed how she had put her bookmark in place and was already in the middle of shoving the book into her bag.

"I have to go, anyways," Embyr continued, getting up and stretching her legs. She felt a bit more subconscious than usual; having another person just stare at you as blankly as Ayame did had that sort of effect. That blank look was all the motivation she needed to leave. She had never been too fond of Ayame, to begin with, even if he had usually been the one who frightened Prudence away.

The orange-haired demon merely grunted and crossed his arms, readying himself for a nap. "Just stay out of trouble."

She readjusted her bag strap, glowering at Ayame before muttering, "Thanks."

Even as she walked away, both of them knew that it was too much to ask for.

* * *

In the cafeteria, crowded as usual, student mingled. In fact, Kurama noticed, they were mingling quite a bit more than was normal. Throughout the day, a large of number of female students had been following him, giggling whenever he looked at them. Even Lark was acting a bit more giddy than usual, sneaking amused smirks at him whenever the fox came anywhere near Lyra.

It was only when Helen, who had come over to talk (despite the annoyed expressions from everyone else at the table), gave him a little red box with a purple bow, that something finally dawned on Kurama. While the blonde gabbed on with the small talk, the fox discreetly pulled his student planner from his bag and flipped through its pages.

February fourteenth... _Ah, so that was it,_ he thought, the fact not really registering in his mind until he undid the bow and a chocolate heart beamed happily from the red confines of its box. Slowly, his face took on an unusual expression: eyes blank and staring off into space, the rest of his features fading, just like the blood from his face, into an impenetrable mask devoid of thought.

"What's wrong, Kurama-kun? Do you not like dark chocolate?"

February fourteenth. Valentine's day. And he had been caught unawares.

Those seated around him - Yusuke, Justin, Lyonell, Kuwabara, Holly, Lark, and Chrysanthemum - finally saw a sight they never would have they'd see: a completely surprised Kurama.

Plainly put, the fox was doomed.

* * *

Meanwhile...

The rock cliff, impossibly high, rose up above him. Seagulls, as if taunting him, swooped down low to scoop up shiners and striper bass fingerlings, only to glide on outstretched wings to alight on the top of the cliff walls.

He was jealous of seagulls, the scum of the seas and skies... something was definitely wrong.

But even those filthy scavengers had gotten more attention than he, lately. From underneath the gently pulsing water, he growled, streams of bubbles escaping to pop on the surface of the water. Silently, he slipped below a respectable-sized school of striper fingerlings and let some air escape from his lungs, using his whip-like whiskers to thrash the large pockets of air into curtains of tiny bubbles; as the baby fish were driven towards the surface, his keen eyes picked up on the ever-growing shadows.

As soon as the first dozen gulls landed on the surface of the sea, their webbed feet kicking as they snapped for the frenzied fingerlings, he launched his attack.

The green sea only served to disguise the iridescence of his dorsal fin, his third eyelids protecting all four of his eyes as he snaked up from the depths and broke through the water. Sunlight glistened off his wet fur, and the gulls scattered in all directions, even as he snapped two or three seagulls diving in for a meal in midair.

As quickly as he had appeared, this sea rat of gull-eating vengeance, he was gone below the waters, the submerging tip of his long whiskers leaving twin ripples on the surface.

All in all, it had been a good meal, but didn't satisfy what he had been hungering for. And there was only one remedy for that.

* * *

"Eeee, I'm not gonna make it!"

Embyr nearly ran though the halls, hoping to perhaps reach her class before the next period bell rung. Only forty-five seconds until class... forty... thirty-five... As she sprinted up the staircase, wincing at the jarring sensation her feet suffered with each step (she figured that maybe she could have left her free-reading book in her locker or at the dorm, it was far heavier than her algebra textbook), she kept her eyes glued to her wristwatch.

In retrospect, she decided that if she, in fact, had bothered to look ahead of her, she wouldn't have collided with Yusuke, who had been in a rush downstairs to _skip_ his next class before the bell rang.

The fox girl went tumbling head over tail down the stairs, her textbooks tumbling alongside her like boulders in an Indiana Jones movie.

Yusuke caught himself on the banister, muttering curses under his breath. He hadn't hurt the kid, had he? No, she was still moving, down on the third floor landing. Taking the steps down three at a time, the Japanese teen started grabbing her books and dropping them in a more-or-less pile by her bag, then bent down to help Embyr up to her feet.

"Eh, Urameshi, is that you?" A rather unusual-looking boy, sporting a garish Mohawk and with every inch of his long, tapered ears pierced, leaned over the railing to address the Spirit Detective. Yusuke froze, staring his classmate square in the eye, letting go of Embyr's hand (letting her fall to the ground) and turning tail, just as the bell rang.

Embyr, now sprawled on the ground, with her things strewn about her, could only stare at the retreating back of her temporary roommate. Then, everything seemed to tie together for her; the missed bell, the crappy morning classes, the dreaded afternoon classes, being shoved down a stairwell by a guy much larger than her, and then left to fend for her own in said stairwell, just when a stampede of students was on its way it. All of that clicked and fit together so well, like a puzzle, that she couldn't stop herself from pulling the marked slip of paper from out of her bag (which had been dumped at her side). Slicing the paper across her thumb so the blood oozed across the printed symbols in a straight line, the fox girl narrowed her eyes and growled out the proper segments of the Buddhist prayer, then tossed the paper into the air.

The seemingly helpless charm floated down to the earth gently, then suddenly folded up and into itself to form a tiny paper airplane; without the aid of a breeze, the paper plane zoomed down the stairs, a ki-sensing bomb in it's own right.

Up above, the poor student merely watched the violent display of charm-working, and thought it safer to merely move along to class and hope she never noticed he'd been there to begin with instead of helping the poor girl out.

It sailed between the stairway banisters, swooping and veering just out of the way of the various students that crowded the halls. Even as the paperbound curse-in-the-making floated just above the outstretched fingers of a curious student hoping to catch the self-propelled paper plane, it was already closing in on the one and only Yusuke Urameshi. Forcing his way through the crowd had slowed him down considerably, and it didn't take much for the paper charm to glue itself to his hand as he reached out to open the building doors.

So caught up in his own escape, he didn't even notice the slight tingling sensation on the back of his hand, or when the blood-stained paper had fallen away, leaving a single word inscribed upon his skin. A harmless enough three-letter-word that would soon prove the bane of his existence.

'_Zap!_' Read his skin.

* * *

Sullenly, he stared out the window at the tiny green buds that were just starting to grow. The trees would be in full bloom soon, in little less than a few weeks. Springtime was generally a social time of great importance, seeing as the bitter winter was nearing an end and the great outdoors was now hospitable.

Every spring, he had gotten nothing but a very severe case of hay fever.

This year, he had resolved to change that.

Frighteningly enough, They were in total agreement about it.

**Go for it, man! Reel her in!**

_Hanabi-kun shouldn't have to. He's become a lot more sociable already this year._

**...He's still a wuss.**

_You brat!_

**Nag!**

Okay, so Their intentions for him to get outside and take advantage of the spring weather were in agreement -- not Them, specifically. So, what with three separate consciousnesses backing up the decision and all, Hanabi figured that his chances probably couldn't get any better.

Sighing, the white-haired boy looked out the window, then sighed again when he saw the familiar broomstick-shaped shadow flit across the courtyard. He didn't know her schedule exactly, but Hanabi knew that sometime around lunch the witch had an empty period smushed somewhere in between her classes.

Shikyo trailed off as the mid-period bell rung, and glared at the clock as if it were the spawn of all evil in the world. Perhaps the only person in the room who didn't shudder at his cold look was Chrysanthemum, who merely closed her slitted eyes and smiled; if he listened closely enough, Hanabi was certain he would be able to hear her purr.

Granted, if Shikyo had even bothered to hear this hypothetical purr (which wouldn't have been too hard, seeing as Chrys sat in the front row and those large cat ears weren't for decoration), he didn't show it, and instead stood up from the leaning position he had taken against the whiteboard. Turning his back to his students, the cat demon began to scribble down a writing prompt on the whiteboard and found that, no matter how hard or how many times he tried to write with the dry-erase marker, it was as dead as could be, then began to search his bare desk drawers for replacement markers.

While everyone stretched or just chatted, Hanabi noticed that now was as good a time as any to make a move on that goal of his. His break time coincided with Holly's free period, which the girl had decided to spend out of the classroom; quietly, he slipped out of the room -- not as if anyone bothered to pay attention to begin with.

Once outside, he grinned at the rush. Sure, it was technically a free ten minutes, and no one really cared if students were out of class during the current time, but it was also one step closer to skipping a class.

A sad victory, as was duly noted, but a victory nonetheless.

Feeling, in all its mighty force, the rush of springtime youth (and without the added drowsiness of anti-histamine medicine) Hanabi strode down the hallway, the metal swinging doors becoming larger with every step.

_That's right! You can do this!_

Yes, They were right... he could do this. There was nothing to it. He would just walk up to her and strike up a conversation, like on any other day, but gradually and meekly slip in the invitation to go out for a walk by the lake after classes.

**Don't blow this. Whatever you do, just don't... don't screw up, okay?**

"Screw up"? Why, he had no idea of the word. 'And', he convinced himself, as he brazenly grabbed the bouquet of daffodils from their plastic vase perched on the windowsill outside Erica's classroom, 'how could I possibly fail? It's only Holly!'

Only Holly. That realization made him come to a complete stop right then and there, his shoulder already shoved against the door to exit out into the bright sunlight. Only Holly...

The earlier rush from nearly-skipping-a-period-of-class-but-not-really faltered right there, as did his conviction. Turning around, despite Their protests, he made a beeline back for Shikyo's room -- but not before picking up the plastic vase and returning the daffodils, attempting to hide where his tight grip had bruised the hollow stalks.

Only Holly, on Valentine's day...

Oh well... he had never really like the whole "direct" approach, anyways.

* * *

She was practically giddy as she skipped down the hall, on the way to re-fill her water

bottle before the break-time bell rang. One or two students wandered the halls as well, rushing to and from the bathrooms before their ten minutes of free time were up. She almost stopped to chat with Hanabi on her way outside, but her classmate looked frazzled enough just trying to rearrange the damaged bouquet of cheery daffodils. So, with a quick wave (the movement out of the corner of his eye made Hanabi jump in surprise, and nearly topple over the vase again), she kicked open the doors to the breezy courtyard and squinted her eyes against the bright sunlight as she stepped out.

The courtyard grounds were recovering quickly from the harsh winter. Indeed, she'd had no idea exactly how "harsh" the winter had been, considering her months-long time jump, but for the sake of a descriptive sentence, the possibility of the winter being anything _but_ cold skipped her mind. But, that was besides the point!

Lark unscrewed the cap from her bottle, holding the opening under the lip of the bubbler head. The water trickling slowly from the metal spigot, Lark hadn't much else to do but look around the courtyard and people-watch. Besides the few, obvious, student couples, very little was going on at all. Mostly dead trees and shrubs, dull mud, and deserted picnic tables (deserted except for the one with the college-age students making out on one of the benches) did little to stir the imagination. They were nothing at all compared to the story-tall, thickly-flowering rosebush tucked in the corner behind the dark green holly bushes.

Yes, what lovely blood-red roses... in the middle of winter. And was that a red box with a purple ribbon bow tucked underneath the holly bush in front of the roses?

She sighed as she screwed the cap of her water bottle back on. Granted, most of Kurama's fans weren't the brightest little bulbs, but even she had caught onto this disguise; the fox must have really been unprepared. So, ever so subtly, so as not to alert the rosebush-covered-teen, Lark snuck up from the side...

...And promptly kicked the bush in it's educationally-deducted-knees. Unlike the horror of Valentine's Day had done to Kurama, the sharp yelp that came from the rosebush didn't faze her in the slightest. Of course, the college students, who had fallen from their precarious position on the picnic bench, were another story. Lark waited until they had grabbed their things and left, directing a rather nasty glare towards her, before she turned to converse with the bush.

"Kurama, are you feeling okay? I mean, to hide in a blooming rose bush..."

"It was a diversion," the redhead replied, picking his way out from behind the holly bush, not from the roses, like Lark had predicted. Taking a gander at her confused reaction, Kurama chuckled. "Like I said..."

Lark sighed, and nudged Kurama in the ribs with her elbow. "You are too smart for your own good. You know that, right?"

"Ah, I was looking all over for you!"

Before he even bothered to identify the speaker, Kurama lunged for the bushes, only to be trapped as Lark grabbed the back of his shirt collar with a surprisingly strong hand. With nowhere to escape, Kurama turned and got a good look at the newcomer, ready to run (Lark attached or not) if it was indeed one of his fangirls.

Instead, quite to his surprise, it was Lyra that ran up to them, looking over her shoulder.

"I'm so glad I found you guys. The entire day, I've had the feeling someone's watching me."

"What?" Normally, Lyra didn't make an accusation like that unless it really bothered her, and that was enough to convince Lark. The younger sister cast glances around the courtyard. Prying Lark's fingers from around his collar, Kurama coughed and asked the water manipulator, "What class were you in last?"

"Actually, I had a free period first thing this morning, but other than that I've been in Geometry all day." She gave another shiver, and stepped off to the side of the path, staring at the ground like it would jump up an attack her. "There it goes again..."

"Eh, uh, sis, are you sure that you're not imagining things, now? I mean, you're expecting the ground to stalk you?" Lark experimentally tapped her toe on the brick path, one eyebrow raised. It was Kurama, however, who pieced two and two together.

"No, it's under the ground, but something is interfering with its energy; I can't read it." The fox placed a hand on Lyra's shoulder, and made the mental decision to give up on running away from the other females on campus for the day. For now, getting rid of this potential stalker was much more important. "Lyra, why don't I walk you to your class. Lark, I'm pretty sure your break is over, too."

Lark rolled her eyes, and took an aggravated sip of her water. "Fine, I'll leave you two alone for now. Just keep me in the loop on that freak, okay?"

Again the bell rang, sending out the message that the short break had ended, and that all students should report back to their classrooms. The mood dampened somewhat, Lark stalked back into Shikyo's class.

* * *

"So that's where you went!"

Yusuke jumped at the voice, but only glared up at Justin as the other boy dully kicked Yusuke's foot. A rather boring two minutes later, the brown-haired boy flopped down on the ground next to the spirit detective, soaking in the view of the frost-skimmed pond.

"What are you doing out here? We have a three period of Suzuki's class," Justin asked, receiving a snort of a reply from Yusuke.

"I left you to deal with him, considering he's your favorite teacher."

Justin gave Yusuke another glare at the comment, and lazily punched him in the arm. "I should kill you, Yusuke."

"I love you."

Both of them stared in shock at each other, Justin scooting away from Yusuke as if the Japanese teen had suddenly asked him for his hand in marriage. Yusuke, meanwhile, could only barely register what had come out of his mouth. If it had been one of his snappy comebacks, sure -- he was used to spitting them out without thinking.

But this... What he had said had been forced out of his mouth, replacing the other remark he had been forming in his mind. Needless to say, this was not normal.

The mutual, friendshippy, feeling had been replaced with a stunning disbelief for what had just happened, and Justin got to his feet. "You know, actually, I have something else to do. See you later." That said and done, Justin departed, giving Yusuke an incredulous look over his shoulder as he sprinted up the concrete steps.

No, not normal at all... In fact, it gave the spirit detective such an uncomfortable feeling in the bottom of his gut, that he decided that it couldn't hurt him much more to test this new phenomena. In search of a test subject that he could quickly beat into submission if the threat of blackmail arose, Yusuke left the pond and headed towards the library.

"Hey!" Yusuke nearly jumped at the voice, a cold sweat building up on the back of the neck. Hunching his shoulders, Yusuke attempted to walk faster, in a hopeless, but desperate, attempt to avoid detection.

A large hand clapped onto his shoulder, jerking Yusuke back as the spirit detective attempted to just walk on by. "Hey, I was talking to you, jerk."

Slowly, Yusuke turned around to face his capturer. It figured Kuwabara would show up now, of all times.

Then, it clicked in Yusuke's head: Kuwabara was the perfect test subject, since if there was one person he most certainly _did not_ love with an undying passion, that person definitely had Kuwabara's mug.

"What do you want?" He snapped, not quite unkindly. Already, he could feel his stomach knot up in premonition of the horror to come. The carrot-top before him decided to give up on cutting off the circulation to Yusuke's arm in favor of killing his friend by means of shaking baby syndrome, as he roughly shook Yusuke by the shoulders.

"You have to help me! I forgot to do that math sheet we had due!"

His brain just beginning to stop rattling around in his skull, Yusuke pried Kuwabara off him. Was it just him, or did something sound unusually strange about that request?

"What? Kuwabara, what's wrong with your head this time?"

"I'm not joking, Urameshi!"

"I love you."

The second the words came out of his mouth, Kuwabara's eyes just widened, and total silence reigned...

...Until the taller boy just thwapped Yusuke on the head, and grumbled, "Stop kidding around, you jack-ass!"

Finally managing to convince Kuwabara that he would be much better off asking someone who actually cared about school, Yusuke finally made it to the library. Already, he was filling in his little mental-checklist. Test subject one, complete. It wasn't pretty, but the same thing had happened, again without conscious thought. Now to find a second person to test it on...

Yusuke had almost made it to the back of the library, where magazines and the monthly comics were held, when the demonic aura flared up. He barely had time to groan in annoyance before the orange-haired Ayame stood behind him, aura simmering.

"And what do you want?"

"Embyr," was the one-word response. Out of the corner of his eye, the spirit detective caught Ayame cross his arms, and Yusuke turned around, careful to keep his own aura at a rather intimidating level. No doubt Ayame was a much weaker and outclassed opponent, but that didn't mean the stoic demon couldn't pack a surprise or two.

When Yusuke didn't answer right away, Ayame carried on. "I heard you pushed her down the stairs."

At this, the black-haired teen sighed in annoyance. "Now, wait, that was all a misunderstanding." The fire demon didn't look particularly happy about this, giving Yusuke no choice but to elaborate. "I was in a rush, and she ran into me. It's not my fault she fell."

The energy from Ayame intensified, and Yusuke was sure the temperature had risen a few degrees, as well. This wasn't good - not at all. "Hey, don't get mad at me."

Another youki increase; wonderful. Looking closely, Yusuke was certain he saw the muscles in Ayame's jaws clench, and the spirit detective back away. He didn't have the time for this..!

As soon as Yusuke cracked his knuckles, preparation in case the demon did decide to revert to his more violent habits, Ayame seemed to pull himself together, and only leaned in close to the spirit detective's face (a definite improvement from before the summer, when the orange-head was just as likely to bash someone's face in). "Just don't do it again, you got me, Yusuke?"

Crap... here it came again...

"I love you."

Luckily for our dear Yusuke, he managed to take advantage of Ayame's surprise to run for his life. Count that as test subject two...

* * *

Nervously, she checked out the window yet again, letting her gaze stray from the textbook that lay open in front of her. The window was tightly shut, with a foam strip along the bottom to prevent drafts from blowing in; it was imperative that the little creature in the terrarium on the far side of the room, a rather elusive little lizard that had wedged itself between it's rock cave and the glass side of the tank, didn't get a chill. Technically, the "guest" in Ms. Hisagawa's classroom was the topic of discussion at the moment, the same creature that they were reading about in their textbooks. But the constant feeling of being watched, it unnerved Lyra to no end.

"Lyra, care to tell me what's so interesting about the window?" The teacher lightly rapped her short fingernails on the table next to the open textbook, making the water manipulator jump. A few heads swiveled in her direction, most notably Kurama's, and Lyra sweatdropped. "Ah, uh, I'm fine," she lied, pointedly ignoring the window.

Even though Ms, Hisagawa nodded, Lyra knew that the teacher didn't really buy the excuse. As the exotic creatures teacher moved on to check over the notes of another student, Kurama shrugged at her from across the room. Not quite understanding what the fox meant, Lyra meant to silently ask him, though hand signals and over exaggerated motions, what he was getting at. Twenty seconds after a horrendous example of charades, Lyra just gave up and tried to focus on her work.

_Oh, wait,_ she thought._ I didn't actually answer her question... oops._

Oops, indeed, but now the period was drawing to a close. As the clock ticked away, minute by minute, more and more students started to pack away their notebooks, and stack the textbooks in the cabinet by the terrarium in the back of the room.

Before he knew it, a large pile of hardcover textbooks had miraculously appeared in front of Kurama, and even more were being passed along the tables to the ever-growing pile. Giving the boy next to him a questioning look, the student merely shrugged and returned back to his manga. Left with no other choice, the redhead carried the dozen-odd books to the back, neatly shelving them even as the bell rang and his classmates stampeded out.

Lyra was the only one not to rush out, and spent her time trying to get a glimpse of the little lizard in its terrarium while Kurama neatened the shelved books.

"You know, I've never seen him get so nervous." It was as if Ms, Hisagawa had suddenly appeared over Lyra's shoulder. Not that the teacher actually had the ability to do so -- rather, she was very quiet, to the point you wouldn't even notice she was there. Now, however, her normally gentle demeanor was strained with worry. "I wonder what could have him so worked up. He was fine with the morning class, you know."

"I, uh, I don't know. Maybe one of the others scared him?"

"One of your classmates? Hm..." She pursed her lips in thought. "Could be. Oh, why hello there little guy." Hisagawa lifted up the screen lid and scooped up her specimen as the lizard was crawling out from the protection of it's rock. Pale sandy-brown in color, the creature blended in with the teacher's skin tone almost exactly, except for the little purple mask that covered it's large black eyes.

"In any case, you better get back to your dorms. Kurama, leave those books, I can clean them up later."

Again, before they knew what was happening, the two roommates found themselves shepherded outside the small building that housed the class. Slowly strolling along the path back onto the main grounds, Lyra watched her breath float away from her in little fading puffs of fog.

"You know," she started, after the silence had begun to get to her, "That thing following me hasn't gotten any better."

"Uh-huh," was the placid response. They turned off the cobble path, the sidewalk turning to cement as they passed the various dorm buildings.

"It seems to follow the water, though. Or, the water pipes."

"Now that's interesting. And familiar." The last bit was said dryly, as the fox seemed to recall something that didn't particularly amuse him all that much. They walked a few more steps before Lyra caught on, and stared at the ground beneath her feet. "Could he really be back?"

"I don't see why not... when did he ever leave?"

"Now you're being a brat," Lyra jokingly muttered, and continued to walk faster. Standing behind and watching, Kurama amusedly noticed the way the girl would check the ground every few seconds. He continued to be amused as such all the way back to the dorm, sometimes chuckling when Lyra mustered up annoyance to give him a mild glare.

But, other than the nagging suspicion that something wasn't right, nothing happened to them. The presence even slipped away, towards the cliffs, and left them alone.

And then they got home.

"Hollyyy! Is that a letter I see poking out of your bag?" hand-drying the dishes, the older Landon brother peered around the kitchen island as Holly did her best to scurry up to her room without his notice. As usual, the effort had failed, and the only choice she was left with was to pour out an excuse while making a sprint up the steps.

"Uh... yeah, would you look at that! It's just a valentine from a friend, nothing important, bye!"

The excuse was obviously the wrong one; unluckily for Holly, she never saw the brief flash of spiritual energy in her brother's eyes. The winds picked up under her, lifting her into the air and even fighting the power of her broom as she attempted to fly away. Despite her complaints, she was sent, floating, back to Victoria in the kitchen; Lyra and Kurama had unlocked the door and peered inside just as the witch was sent soaring across the living room.

"What's going on, here?" Kurama asked. Kyuro, ambling on down the stairs in his own lazy way, merely attempted a shrug with the former thief.

"It seems my sister got a love letter..." With a wave of his finger, Holly was rotated in midair, her face nearly red from yelling so much. Even as his younger sister cursed him to oblivion, the cross dresser neatly plucked the white envelope from where it was half-hanging out of the backpack pocket. The envelope was sliced open with a little scalpel of pressurized air, and the letter - with it's official school symbol imprinted on the top-right corner - was professionally scanned through. "Well, well. It seems that today's date is an office detention. For, what's this surprise? Oh, of course, almost _flying through a stained glass window._"

"It was an accident," was the only response the witch could come up with. Victoria only gave her a disapproving look, and released the energy that kept her afloat. Holly quickly retreated to the living room couch, earning a quck ear-twitch in her direction from Embyr, where Kyuro jumped up onto her shoulder and rubbed his cheek against hers, looking for attention. "I'm not kidding, either. I was minding my own business when Yusuke just came running up out of nowhere."

"Did you almost hit him," Kurama questioned. Holly shook her head, and eyebrows furrowed. "I yelled out his name, so he'd move, and said that he loved me. I was so surprised I lost control of the broom."

Kyuro hopped from Holly's shoulder to the couch armrest and neatly tucked his tail around himself as he regarded his human charge. "Now that is unusual."

"Beyond unusual," Lyra muttered. "That's just downright weird."

"Yes, yes... I'll admit Yusuke isn't the sensitive type. But I wonder if he's come down with something?" Kurama only pursed his lips in thought, his red hair falling about his shoulders as if some invisible wind stirred them. Despite the fox's seriousness, Kyuro couldn't help but crack another insult.

"Our poor Yusuke-boy's had his brains addled? Did he fall on his head, again?"

Kurama only gave the cat familiar an annoyed look, but had to brush the hair from his face. It was only then that he realized that the seemingly dramatic wind-effects had not been imaginary.

All four of them looked over towards the kitchen where Victoria was only calmly washing a few green peppers. The wind, coming from the crossdresser's direction, was constant and forceful, getting stronger by the second. As soon as Victoria moved the vegetables to the cutting board and began to slice into them with reckless abandon, not stopping until the peppers were well past the "diced" stage, did the slight breeze erupt into a full-blown gale.

The newspaper went flying off the coffee table, scattering section by section in the air. Futilely, Embyr clamped her fingers down on her book, earnestly trying to keep her place; from her lap, Momo went off into frenzied barking. Holly squeezed Kyuro tight to her chest, while Kurama and Lyra braced themselves against the kitchen island, their feet sliding over the linoleum until they were braced against the edge of the living room carpet.

Somehow, over the noise of rushing wind, Victoria managed to holler Yusuke's voice loud enough to be heard upstairs. Begrudgingly, he came downstairs, brown eyes filled with malice as he whispered words that couldn't be heard over the wind. As he stood in front of Victoria, Lyra managed to catch Kuwabara as he quickly peeked around the corner of the staircase, then ducked back behind the solid wall. Stealthily, the basement door opened a crack; almost before she could catch it, a black blur zipped across the front yard, towards the living room window, before it dodged off to the side.

Everyone had noticed Yusuke's strange behavior over the day, probably. She wouldn't be surprised if, had she decided to open the French doors to the teacher's bedroom, Erika was listening from the other side of the glass. Ever since they had returned, the tension between Yusuke and Victoria had been building up, to the point where it would eventually boil over -- today.

And they were all there to see him get chewed out for it.

The wind died down, to the point where neither had to shout to be heard. "Yusuke, be a dear and tell me what's been going on with you, hm?" The tone could have almost have been considered motherly, provided the possibility Victoria wasn't really a man in a dress, and the knife he washed off in the sink wasn't designed for cutting through flesh and bone.

Yusuke only mumbled something under his breath, too quiet again for anyone to hear, before launching into his excuse. "There's nothing wrong." Victoria only spared him a glance before drying off the knife, lovingly wiping the water off with a towel.

"Everyone's worried about you, you know." When this was only replied to with a grunt, Victoria sighed. "Really, now! Stop moping and tell me what's wrong."

Another grunt, and Yusuke shoved his hands in his pockets. Obviously, he was uncomfortable and, obviously, he wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. "I think I'll just leave, now." Turning his back on the wind-controller, Yusuke went to go back up the stairs, only to pause half-way across the living room. Knowingly, Victoria grinned wickedly as the spirit detective turned around... but that grin turned upside-down when he realized that Yusuke couldn't be bothered with him at all.

Instead, the Japanese teen had become rather aware of Embyr's quiet snickering. It was nearly undetectable, an escape of breath that was betrayed only by the way her shoulders shook. She reacted slowly, with purpose, as she gently tucked her bookmark into place.

"Did you have fun today, Yusuke?"

"You..." For Yusuke, it was as if everything was piecing itself together, going from some obscure lines to a suddenly clear picture. Her attitude, the mark on his hand, even the very holiday.

Before anyone could stop him, Yusuke grabbed onto the young girl's wrist, pointing at the word "ZAP!" inscribed on the back of his hand. "Care to explain what this is, brat?"

Embyr only rolled her eyes and muttered, "Don't tell me you can't figure it out by now."

"You... you did something to me!" Another smart remark, and he would just about lose it, today. It wasn't as if everyone he hadn't run into anyone else on the way home, and he wa rather annoyed with the whole day in particular.

"It's easily reversible... but you're too stubborn to do that."

"You little!" he tightened his grip on her wrist, not caring how much Embyr squirmed in discomfort.

Of course, that was before the back door was blown in.

In surprise, he let go of Embyr, reigun aimed and ready, pointed towards the splintered door. Even before he was fully ready, he had felt the rush of wind as the basement door opened wide, and the familiar energy as a seed began to shed it's seed coat in Kurama's palm.

It was deathly quiet, all of them frozen and waiting for the attacker to act first. As soon as the four beacons sliced through the dust, Lyra jumped up from her hiding spot behind the kitchen island. "Wait," she commanded, nearly bumping into Victoria as she ran to the back door. Before any of them could react, she was wrapped up in the long whip-like whiskers, and the sinewy body of Koryu rushed in after.

"Lyra, you're back! You have no idea how _dreadful_ it has been..! I hope you remembered-"

The others relaxed and sighed in relief, all except for Yusuke. Having that overgrown rat come into his home, just when he'd been hoping the rodent had been gone for good, was just the last straw. Pointing his glowing finger at the tail end, which was still hanging out the shredded remains of the door and far away from Lyra, he released the weak amount of stock-piled energy.

The rat shrieked as the reiki grazed past his fur, singing it an even darker black and leaving a softball-sized crater in the wall. The rat-like creature paused, scrutinizing the dent, from which smoke and faint embers drifted, and turned his four eyes on the spirit detective.

"Well, isn't that a fine hello. And to think, on my own birthday..."

"B-birthday?" Lyra's eyes widened, and she wriggled out of Koryu's clinging hug. "I, uh, what..?"

The shrug and shared glance from Kurama did no help to the situation. Technically, Koryu had been "born" on Valentine's day, but she had no idea he'd actually remembered it; they certainly hadn't.

"Uh, oh, right! Your birthday!" Victoria, who had drawn back from the reigun shot, nudged Yusuke in the ribs. "Why don't you, uh, call to make sure the food is coming, yes, Yusuke?"

He inaudibly stumbled over the words "I love you," before snapping back to reality. "What!" He stepped away from the witch, staring at the cordless home phone charging on the kitchen island as if it might bite him. "What are you talking about?"

"Get. The. Phone." A hand darted across Victoria's throat, a signal for Yusuke to shut up or suffer the consequences. Yusuke only glared at Victoria, who was in the process of sneaking the phone out of its cradle. Those same chocolate-brown eyes refocused on the offered electronic.

"No."

"You know the number, so just... dial it. We're having take-out tonight."

"Are you insane? Dinner is already half-cook--"

Briskly, the phone rang, making them both jump. Pressing the call button, Victoria brought the phone up to his ear, and seemed to be listening intently. After a few nods and "Uh-huuuh... really!"'s, he handed it to Yusuke. "It's for you."

"Give me that!" He swiped it from Victoria's slender hand, and brought the receiver to his ear, only to hold it back again as the voice on the other end nearly burst his ear drums with its screaming.

"Where have you been? It's been months, and I finally get a call from Kuwabara that you've been home for over a week, and you just forget!"

"I-uh, I-"

She cut him off sharply. "You promised to come home for Christmas, so where were you? Yusuke!"

Quite like the other times, it came out of his mouth unexpectedly, but this time loud enough to earn a few chuckles from somewhere behind the basement door. "I love you."

Embyr re-opened her book, flipping through the pages nonchalantly until she reached her bookmark. She stole a yellow-hued glance upwards, towards the older teen and the girl whom he was on the phone with, and scratched Momo under the chin.

"..Yus- what? What did you say?"

Ah, hell, they'd heard him, anyways. Might as well go all out, now. "And I'm sorry... for earlier, Keiko. I didn't mean to forget about Christmas."

Silence on the other end, and even on his own end of the line. The others had come down for a show, and they were certainly getting one. He hadn't expected Keiko to call today, of all times...

"Oh, Yusuke... you're still an ass." Even as she said those words, and even though she was probably a thousand miles and a complete dimensional barrier away, he could see her smile.

"Yeah, I know. I love you--" This time, it was the soft click and dead ringtone as Keiko suddenly hung up on him, that interrupted his half-joke. "--too," He lamely finished.

He slammed the phone back into the cradle, and wearily sighed, his entire body slumping in exhaustion. He halfheartedly waved behind him at the confused Koryu, and only gave Embyr a long look as he made his way to the stairs. Right about now, a party for the damned water rat, and dealing with the obnoxious little charm-caster was the last thing he needed.

"Hey, Yusuke?"

He turned around, and dully answered Holly with, "What?"

"Want me to save you some dinner?"

"Yeah, whatever..."

He was so tired, he never even noticed the "ZAP!" fade from his hand. Once Yusuke was gone, Embyr looked up from her book.

"Who was that Keiko girl on the phone?" She asked, yellow eyes focused on Kurama's green ones. The older fox managed a faint smile. "Just a very close friend of his."

"Ah," She murmured, returning to her book. "Who knew..?"

* * *

Yes, it's been forever. Kill me now. But it's done, and I shall be returning to the more serious plottage from now own.

Personally, I think the chapter kinda petered out at the end... I always love writing for Hanabi, though. Especially when he tries so hard to be brave. XD


	27. As the Pendulum Swings

Quote of the week: "I hope you bash your head off a corner of tofu and die." - Japanese insult

I'm trying to stay on track. I really aaam... NaNoWriMo shall not sway me from this task! x.x Actually, you know what? This fic has technically beaten the NaNo goal by at least twice over. Not counting this chapter, the word count for CA II is about 105k. Go figure.

Oh, wait, I forgot to put down the rules of "Zap!" last chapter! Stupid me! Simply, you write the word "ZAP!" on the back of someone's hand. If anyone says that person's name (first, middle, last name... it doesn't matter), that person has to say "I love you" to the one who said their name. The game continues until the word "Zap!" is washed/worn off of your hand.

So simple, and yet it amused us for hours... o.o

* * *

"So, what was the damage," Suzuki shuffling through the folders placed between him and Rachel. The headmistress could only sigh, and straighten the manila folders Suzuki had left to fall onto her desk.

"Only a dozen or so were taken; but that's no real reason to be relieved."

Suzuki eyed the name on the tab of one of the folders, flipped it open, and read the contents, scanning through the printed pages quickly. "No kidding." He flipped another page, and his eyes widen. "My, my... quite the record. No wonder why the students are encouraged to keep their abilities to themselves -- some of these are plain scary."

Shikyo, although hanging on the edges of the conversation, picked up the discarded pile of folders and shifted through them until a particular name caught his eye. "I think I can see why someone would want this information..."

Ryo peeked around Shikyo's elbow, nearly frustrated enough to shove the cat demon's arm out of the way. "Of all the... no, Shik, move your right hand. My right. Thank you," he casually said, already reading through the data sheet. "Ah, I haven't had him in my class, yet..."

"I have," Shikyo replied, tapping a sharp nail on the student photo that had been clipped to the rather thick paper packet. "Niwa... and right here," he handed another packet to Ryo. "Is St. Pierre."

"This is going downhill rather quickly," Rachel murmured, gazing down on the crowded pathways from the purple-tinted windows. "I was almost thinking of canceling the April vacation trip."

Ryo raised an eyebrow, and tossed the folder he had been reading onto Rachel's desk. "If that doesn't alert the students to something going on, I don't know what will."

"I can hardly see the advantage of telling them every single detail," Suzuki muttered, tossing his own folders onto the desk. Mechanically, Rachel once again straightened the folders into a neat pile.

"Yes, Suzuki, I know. And keeping the details from last year's secret is probably the only reason we have as many of the students as we do here, today."

A discontented grumble went around the room. Rachel turned her chair towards the window, trailing a finger along the lead lines that criss-crossed to make the glass' lattice detailing. Around her were the teachers that had become most involved with the problems concerning Givanni -- one of them came on Koenma's orders, himself. If anything could be done, these three and herself would be more than prepared to take control.

Of course, there were only four of them, and they wouldn't be able to do a thing if they couldn't decide what action to take. Their beliefs, although in the right place, were far too varied for her to make a set decision. Shikyo was always out front, while Suzuki thought everything through, making him lag behind the others in his decisions. Ryo just bounced around wherever caught his fancy, a load of bloody help that did her. They needed someone stable, someone who had experience with this sort of thing, to be their tiebreaker.

Almost instinctually, she reached for the intercom and asked the secretary to send for the necromancer before the other three could complain. They would have to understand... if anyone understood what the total risks and possibilities were, it was the Laird.

The next forty-five minutes passed uneventfully, in uncomfortable silence. Rachel only looked up once, surprised that the cat demon hadn't made an outburst; she saw him seated in the couch on the far end of the room, his black fur contrasting sharply against the cream-colored walls and bright sunlight, reading over the student files again. Suzuki merely gave her a smile that did little to comfort her, as Ryo just slumped over in the seat before her desk and played around with the magnetic sculpture-toy she had received from Erika as a promotion present.

When the door creaked open and the Laird shuffled in, jacket disheveled and his face well beyond the five-o-clock shadow that usually adorned it, Rachel nearly sighed in relief.

"It doesn't take that long to walk from your cottage to my office," She brashly stated.

The illustrious Michealangelo merely cracked his neck, yawned, and scratched under his armpit. "I was recording the information my scout golems had brought back from the school boundaries... Didn't even notice my phone ringing."

Ryo snickered. "More like you had to dig for the phone," the elf quipped, all-too-well remembering the disheveled state of things at the necromancer's abode. Michealangelo only shrugged, and pulled out a thickly folded packet of papers from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Say what you will, but we have a few spirits closing in on the school."

Rachel took the papers, straightened them out, and furrowed her eyebrows at the difficult-to-decipher cursive. "Any negative readings from them?"

"Not yet... but if they keep flocking here, we'll have some definite problems."

Suzuki bent over Rachel's chair, reading the papers from over her shoulder. "Problems, hm? And what do you suggest we do?"

"Eh? Me?" Michealangelo only stopped in mid-yawn long enough to point at himself, not liking it at all when the three before him - two teachers and the headmistress - only nodded at him like he was a particularly slow individual. "Right, well. Well... hm... I say a full-scale expulsion."

"Of students!" It was the only thing Shikyo had bothered to say since Rachel had called for the Laird. All this time, the cat demon had been shuffling through the student files, concentrating as if trying to form connections between the students in his head.

Michealangelo shook his head. "No, of the spirits. Normally, I'd say we should do it right away, but I'm thinking if we can hold out just a little bit longer, give them time to really get stuck, I can pull of an expulsion ritual powerful enough to send them all to rest."

"All at once?" Suzuki was dubious of the plan, never mind the fact he didn't want any spirit, harmless or not, anywhere near him.

"Yes, all at once. But there's a chance that a ritual of that power would put the students at risk, if they were caught up in its' channels."

A silence pervaded the office. The little stamped metal Xs and Os tumbled from their paper-thin tower, sticking out at unusual odds and ends from the black, magnetic, puck-shaped base. Michealangelo cleared his throat.

"That's why I was planning on such a large-scale ritual during the April vacation. As long as I get it done with the first day after the students leave, enough time should have passed by the time they return for it to mostly fade away. No harm done."

Back in the corner, Rachel could see Shikyo's tail twitch rather violently. Even if Ryo were to agree with him at this point, it would still be three-to-two, and the vacation would still go on. With a sigh, she twisted the cap off of her fountain pen, and took a seal-locked book from her desk drawer, nearly half the pages still blank. At Michealangelo's directions, she wrote down the basics of their plan.

"So," she asked, closing the book. "Who votes for the mountain hot springs, or would you rather send them back to Misery Island?"

* * *

The first thing she did when she saw the imposing silhouette in her doorway, she choked on her hot chocolate.

"H-Hiei! Nice to see you..."

The demon only strode in, his gait amazingly unbothered by the long dragonling sitting on his shoulder. Already, Mara had grown phenomenally since his return, and now she was close in length to a boa constrictor. Even the way she moved, her sinewy neck waving gracefully through the air, her tail tightly wrapped around her "mother's" arm and dragging along the floor, reminded one of a snake.

Mara spread her wings, tiny white feathers visible among the translucent membrane, and glided over to Yukimi's lap to rub her feathery mane against the girl's cheek. Yukimi gently scratched the dragonling behind the ears, smiling as Mara's bright blue eyes became half-lidded in pleasure, and tried to place her mug of hot liquid on the coffee table without spilling any. "I take it it's time for her check-up again, huh?"

"Whatever brought you to that conclusion?"

Ah, Hiei was in a nasty mood... No matter. Yukimi scooped Mara's compact torso in her arms, and attempted to stand, noticing that the white dragon had gained a good amount of weight from her last visit. Handing Mara off to Hiei, who let the dragonling crawl onto his shoulder without so much as a complaint, the girl went about shuffling through her filing cabinet for Mara's growth records; as soon as the files were safely rescued from the mess, Yukimi proceeded to dig through the closet for her scale.

"You know," she finally said, despite the stethoscope cord clenched in her teeth, "I don't think I have a scale big enough to fit her, anymore. We might have to get her weighed in at a vet's office, now."

"Hn."

"That might cost some money, Hiei. I hope you're covered for it."

There was a slight pause, as if the three-eyed demon had finally come to the realization that he couldn't get his way through life by killing everyone that got in his way. Sooner or later, he would have to handle money, the very same dirty thing that had been the cause for his sister's imprisonment and torture. Finally, he spoke, "I'll manage."

"Alright, then... if you want." The black-haired girl almost yelped out in pain, but her foot deftly pulled itself away from the falling corner of plywood board as if on its own. "Until then, I do have an idea," She grunted, dragging the plywood out of her closet and leaning it against the living room wall.

Yukimi motioned for Hiei to wait a moment, and left the room, followed by the chirps of the young dragon. A minute later, she returned with a bathroom scale, which she set down on the hardwood floor and carefully balanced the plywood on it. Her task done, she stood back to admire her sad little scale.

"I think my bathroom scale is off by about five pounds, but it's better than nothing; I'll just have to start writing in margins instead of the exact weight." When Hiei refused to move, she dramatically threw her arms out at the scale, as if she were a game show hostess magically producing a lifetime supply of bleach to a happy housewife on Jeopardy. "Come on, Hiei, just toss her on!"

The look she received could have nearly been categorized as borderline pissed.

"Stop being such a hen, and put Mara on the scale. Now."

Ah, there it was: his glare was murderous. She could finally sleep fitfully and in fear of her life, knowing she had done her job.

The dragonling was tenderly eased onto the plywood, as if all the splinters in the world would rear up and pierce her drummer's-beat-heart. Yukimi, keeping a close eye on the scale's reading, nearly whistled as the numbers blurred underneath the red line that was the marker of the scale. Finally, as the numbers slowed and she watched them quiver back and forth underneath the marker, the girl wrote down the weight margins in her organized file book.

"Congratulations, Hiei," she said, observing the way the muscles moved underneath Mara's pale skin. "She's nearing about ninety pounds, now."

The demon, however, looked less than enthusiastic. "It's going to be a pain to hide her, if when Koenma sends us back to the human realm."

"She might not be able to go back." Hiei let Yukimi's words fall upon deaf ears, and instead called the curious youngster over before she could attempt to set the scale ablaze.

* * *

"Lyra, make it stooop! I don't want to do anymore work!" Letting out a frustrated groan, the younger sister let her face drop against the dining room table, the wooden surface feeling silky smooth under her cheek. All around her, papers and folders and who-knew-what-else were stacked around her workspace like some mighty fortress wall. Of course, no fortress wall could keep out long-overdue schoolwork.

"Stop whining," Lyra commented, but the words had no force behind them. As much as she wasn't the type to say it out loud, the fault that Lark was so swamped in work was her own doing. It had been Lark who had put it off, time and time again, until the last minute; it had been Lark who had dodged around due dates and deadlines, determined to put it all behind her.

Thus, it was now Lark, frustrated and tired, who had stacks of work while Lyra only had to write down the last paragraph on her last assigned essay.

The door to the kitchen swung open and Victoria strutted in, looking over the girls' shoulders momentarily before sliding into a seat himself. He slouched in the seat; chin propped up on his arms, and silently watched them work. When the girls had just about gotten over the disturbance and gotten back to work, the cross dresser spoke.

"We're going to have dinner, soon."

Lyra's meek reply was drowned out by the loud cry of "Crap!" from Lark, who was frantically stuffing papers into folders or attempting to move piles of textbooks off of the dining table. Victoria tempted himself with the idea of watching her put it all away before continuing, but the greater good won out. "Calm down, you," he said, with amusement. "It's a left-over night, so everyone's sitting wherever they want; you girls can even do your work while you eat. We have plenty of Chinese food."

Lark grumbled a curse under her breath, and pulled her pen out again, as well as the biology worksheet upon which she had been diligently filling in the blanks. Lyra, her work done, sighed in relief and leaned back in her chair, blue eyes glazed over with exhaustion as she watched Victoria get up and leave for the kitchen once again.

"No, really. Eat the Chinese food. I don't dare touch it, myself." And the cross dresser was gone, amidst self-mumblings of "the crazy things they toss in stir-fry".

Lark's eyes flicked up to her sister, and she shot out a hand to grab her sister's sleeve. "Oh no," she said, eying Lyra up and down. "If I have to stay here and do work, the least you can do is help me."

Lyra experimentally tugged in her sister's grip, and sighed in defeat. "Very well. But at least let me get us some food, first."

"Promise you won't escape off to your room and leave poor ol' me down here to hopelessly fail at identifying gerunds?" Even as she asked, she let go of the older girl's sleeve. Free from her restraint, Lyra edged towards the door. "Of course, I won't."

"Won't help me?"

"I'm getting dinner, Lark." Lyra nudged the door open, giving her sister unreadable look; if anything, the younger sister recognized the way the words seemed so stiff and forced. Only a few hours, and she was already beginning to wear down on Lyra's seemingly endless patience.

"Don't forget my extra soy sauce!" Behind Lyra, the door slammed shut.

Now, with no one around to distract her, Lark turned her attention to meticulously marking up the simple worksheet that sat in front of her. The sentence she was looking over was small, split in half with a semicolon, and very much resembled something one would read in a second-grade book. What made this particular sentence at the tenth-grade level, however, was the participle verb and subject hidden somewhere in its deceptive words.

She let her eyes wander for a second - that's all it took - towards the neat little pile of books in front of her sister's seat, and in that same second they lit up. Sitting at the top of a rather thick little book about reiki control, was a thin metal chain, attached to a metal pendulum coated in the same sterling-silver shine. On a whim, and bored to boot, Lark picked up the pendulum and held the little metal ball on the other end of the pendulum's chain in between her fingers, watching the spade-shaped pendulum spin in little clockwise circles in midair. Wider and wider, the circles became, until she shifted her reiki away from her fingertips; without the power flowing through the chain, the pendulum fell limp, its motions stopped as if it had physically been held still.

"Weird little thing," she mumbled, bringing the pendulum up to her eyes and watching it dangle on its metal chain. "How do they expect you to learn how to use it? 'Excuse me, teacher, but I don't think my jewelry likes me; it keeps swinging in circles.'"

As if it heard her, the pendulum started swinging in circles again, this time clockwise. Surprised, she checked her reiki flow, and noticed the amount moving up and down her arm wasn't even enough to make a respectable aura-tingle around her skin. All the while, the pendulum swung out wider, coming nearly horizontal in its chain, before the entire thing flew out of her fingers and smacked against the kitchen door.

"Gah!"

"...What was that?" Lyra nudged the door open, plates of micro waved fried rice and boneless spareribs balanced in her arms as if she were some sort of absurd scale. Lark quickly adopted an "innocent" pose and pretended to look up from her gerund worksheet as if surprised. "Oh, nothing! But thanks for the food," she exclaimed, greedily digging into the rice.

Lyra set her own plate down on the table, noticed the familiar silvery object missing from her pile of books, and scanned the room. Bending down by the door, she delicately picked up her pendulum by its chain, eyes widening as it reacted almost immediately: its metal end swinging up until it, impossibly, pointed upwards and stayed there. Her lips pursed, Lyra walked back to her seat, resting her chin in one hand as she watched the pendulum swing from side to side in midair, as if it were some absurd dowsing rod. Finally, she asked, "Lark, were you playing with this?"

"Uh, no! ...Yeah, yeah I was..." The younger sister, frustrated by both homework and her sister, avoided looking at the swinging pendulum. Lyra sighed, and pocketed the metal chain and weights, and stared into the space where it had been pointing -- through the wall was the cliff-side yard and open ocean. After all her experience of using a pendulum, it had never pointed in a direction where there wasn't a substantial amount of energy; much less fling itself at the wall to get to it.

What in the world was going on?

* * *

I've been playing with my own pendulum, myself. Nifty little things, they are (although my pendulum's weight is made out of stone, not metal). I always find it amusing how the "parlor tricks" like pendulums, tarot cards, and horoscopes are usually true, in one way or another.

Of course, I'm still too much of a wuss to work with an Ouija board... I've always been taught not to fool around with the dead. There are enough stories that tell about Ouija board "séances" gone horribly wrong (these stories usually include amazingly stupid teenagers -- go figure)to keep meaway.


	28. In Like a Lion

Quote of the Week: "I fear for my life." - Colleen

Well, after months and months of badgering my mother to take me to the department of motor vehicles, I finally have my driver's permit. It took a grand total of four minutes for me to pass the test. Now I know why the stupidest buffoons can become president. XD

* * *

It went downhill slowly, at first. Nothing really seemed to happen until the first few days of March. Even afterwards, only the faintest glimmers gave any indication of what was really happening -- whether it was from intervention on part of the faculty or some other unknown reason, remained undetermined.

The presence became so normal around the dorm, and presented itself so slowly, that none of them paid any special attention to it; after all, the aura surrounding the school was a constant kaleidoscope of spiritual and demonic energy. Whatever it was that was going around the school, the amassed energy of the student body changed to adapt the situation.

They only started to worry when they saw it, solid and real, floating around the stairway banisters. A little orb of light, so faint that one thought it was only a trick of the eyes.

"I don't like it," Jin finally stated one day, watching the orb go about its business on the staircase. The others only rolled their eyes, and Hiei gave his own complimentary snort of annoyance. Kurama, not quite feeling so unthreatened, himself, tried his best to keep the other's comments from getting too harsh.

"Now, now," he placed a hand on Jin's shoulder, giving a stern look over at Yusuke and Lark (who were about ready to wallop the wind master for worrying over something so unimportant as a bit of loose spirit energy floating around). "It's bound to move on soon."

But it didn't go. In fact, every day, it grew a little brighter, a little more solid. At this, Jin only gave the others a knowing look, hoping that Yusuke at least, once a ghost himself, would get a clue. Going on with their everyday lives, they ignored him.

Then the footsteps started: big heavy clunking up and down the stairs in the middle of the night, as if someone in combat boots was having a game of hopscotch on the wooden staircase. On the night they started, Kyuro, the lightest sleeper of them all, was out of Holly's room in a flash, and soon batting at Yusuke and Kuwabara's noses. Once they were awake, the cat familiar gave them a grumpy little lecture and told the boys to check the stairs.

Quite disagreeably, they focused their own glowing energy in their palms, lighting up the room -- and the empty beds of Hiei and Kurama (one was currently pulling an all-night studying stint at the library, and the other was who-knows-where). Grumbling and mumbling, they padded out to the staircase landing, and focused the beams of light down the stairs.

Victoria stared back at them, face obscured by the strange barred shadows of the banister, having just snuck over from the room he shared with Erika. But his gaze wasn't quite focused on them, per say. The stomping had not stopped, but continued at a rather soft volume. What faced the three humans and cat familiar was not an intruder of any sort, however.

Floating in midair, moving as if pacing on the stairs, the little orb of light continued its rounds.

This indeed puzzled them, but there was nothing in their power that they could do; quite confused, with their brains circling around their heads at the rough guesstimated speed of a million miles per hour, as Victoria ordered them back to bed, they buried themselves under the blankets and tried to ignore the noise. As they flipped over in their beds and wracked their brains trying to come up with a logical excuse, the orb continued it's stomping with glee.

* * *

Things soon progressed so quickly, that it seemed second nature to hear about new events occurring in the dorms and classrooms. The chairs liked to stack themselves in physically impossible towers down in the basement storeroom of Ryo's classroom tower; the youngsters regularly saw a kindly old deerfolk man down by the pond and watched him fish, conversing with him as if he wasn't invisible to everyone else; in the dining room of one of the girl's dorms, a strange sensation came over anyone who entered and made them immensely nauseous - but the feeling disappeared as soon as the sickly person stepped through the door.

Temperatures dropped, light bulbs flickered, pens went flying across the rooms, students had sudden fits of sickness caused by crippling nightmares, digital wristwatches would suddenly short-circuit in one minute and be fine the next. None of it made sense, and the teachers, although they did their best to fix the problem on hand, didn't seem bothered in the least over the current turn of events.

Perhaps it was the total lack of reaction over the mishappenings that frightened the students, instead of the occurrences themselves. A number of teachers seemed more alert than others, and didn't take any chances. One such was Shikyo; all it took was the feeling of being watched, of being pressured by something unknown, -- and the same sensation was felt by everyone in the room -- for him to move his classes outside. Although he claimed it was just to experience the spring weather, both Lark and Chrysanthemum noticed the discreet protection circled drawn with extra fertilizer (in a slightly different shade of blue than the rest) and nearly hidden underneath the grass.

The weeks went by, February changing to March, the snows melting and dotting the pathways with large water puddles. They carried on without a care, doing work and keeping up with Mara's rapid growth spurt, every so often hearing a new piece of brow-raising news, and, again, telling Jin to shut his trap whenever the demon was about to put in his own two bits about the new information.

By the end of the first week of March, the little orb had changed. No longer was it a tiny ball of light, floating about and generally just causing innocent havoc during the night. Thudding footsteps were nothing compared to what was in the works, here.

It began, innocently enough, when Lyonell stopped by to drop off an assignment for Rogerik; the thief had come down with an unusual spring case of the flu. Kurama had only opened the door when he noticed the normally placid look in the cat twin's eyes disappear, to be replaced with one of fear and confusion. The book had been thrust in Kurama's hands, but not before the fox noticed how Lyonell's fur and hair bristled, how the book was placed into his hands with prominent claw marks in the thick carboard cover, and the cat's tail nearly three times it's size as he walked away. Looking out the bay window in the living room, Kurama watched the cat demon take off in a sprint.

The entire atmosphere changed then, if only for a second, and Kurama turned towards the stairs. Nothing. Not even the little floating and glowing sphere.

The book was passed off, with much good-natured griping from Rogerik, and all seemed normal again. Until Kurama climbed the stairs again after dinner, and felt the drowning pressure swamp him.

* * *

"It's getting worse," Jin muttered, matter-of-factly, one weekend as the others sat around the TV eating chips and dip and watching B-rated Sci-Fi movies. Lark only rolled her eyes and turned the volume up enough so the screams of the genetically mutated Shrimp-Scorpion hybrid's victims drowned out her thoughts. Holly only gave Jin a sympathetic look, but wasn't willing to put her neck on the line against Lark. In the end, the wind master couldn't blame her: she slept in the same room as the water manipulator, after all, and she didn't need Lark to be angry at her the entire weekend. They left that sort of self-sacrifice to Lyra, who had a knack for calming her sister down, and to Rogerik, who was a good enough scapegoat for those sorts of events.

"You're imagining things." Was all Lark offered, trying to immerse herself in the horrible screen acting as best she could. Yusuke rolled his eyes and Kyuro only sadly shook his head. There was no way they imagined the pervasive feeling that followed them around the house. It had gotten to the point that Koryu, if he hadn't felt the obligated pull to attempt to protect Lyra best he could, was loath to even stick his head inside the kitchen window. If that wasn't a sign something was wrong, what was?

And then their sign showed up, one night when Rogerik had to rush to the first-floor bathroom in order to puke off the "Return of the Flu", and he passed the staircase. What he saw made him stop in his tracks, and swallow down the bile that had been rising in his throat.

He'd been used to the orb, had even talked to it once or twice during his night-time trips to go tango with the toilet (as the lingo went) when the fever was getting to him, and wasn't nearly as bothered by it as he knew he should have been. What stood in its' place was something that made every hair in his body stand up and forced adrenaline to pump through his veins. Sick or not, on the sheer power of the chemicals mixing in his veins, he was sure he could've ran a marathon.

It was just standing there, motionless and as innocent as it could possibly be - the thing got the motionless part down far better than the feeling of innocence - staring straight at him.

Correction: it would be staring straight at him if it's entire head didn't consist of a bottomless black hole peering out from underneath the hood of a black sweatshirt.

Malice rolled off of it in waves, making vomit gurgle back up in his throat again and cause his legs to go limp as if his bones had suddenly been replaced with the tofu replica of a human skeleton. Around it, the air shimmered with spirit energy, and its aura reached even the bottom of the stairs, where Rogerik stood, dumbfounded. Just as suddenly as it had made it's stomach-lurching appearance, however, it blinked out of existence right before Rogerik's eyes. The stomping of heavy boots heralded its exit.

His stomach strangely settled, all of a sudden, Rogerik scurried back to his basement bedroom, making sure to close the door tight and give a begging glance over to the glow-in-the-dark gargoyle statuette that he'd found in an old box of junk from the previous tenants and had stationed on the last step. The grotesque, hyena-like face calmed him much more than that soulless void of hate.

* * *

"So, where's that necromancer when you need him?" Rogerik grumpily downed his orange juice in one gulp as soon as Lark came down the stairs.

"Shut up, you."

It had been a good few days since Rogerik's last bout of the flu and his spotting of the malignant spirit on the stairwell. At first, no one had taken it seriously, and for good reason, considering he had been a bit delirious later on that night when his temperature had spiked; but, the very next night, it had been spotted by Lyra and Kurama. Just a day after that, the dark thing had progressed from stairwell hauntings to actually moving up and down the hall, and it was getting more daring every night.

Just last night, for instance, Lark and Holly had been awoken by their door suddenly flying open and crashing into the wall -- the first thing they had seen was that empty void, sucking them in and crushing them against the forces of gravity all at the same time. Any suspicions or doubt they'd once held was gone.

From the living room, Holly gave the stairs a cautious look and offered, "It's just a really creepy spirit. At least it isn't physically violent."

"Yet," Kyuro added. The black cat's eyes flicked over the stairs, and he bristled, just as Embyr came around the hallway corner, her nose once again in a book. Without any caution at all, she trotted down the steps, not even paying attention to where her feet were going. The morning routine was so normal, that no one even bothered to watch her. Except the familiar.

His piercing gaze never strayed as the young kitsune, taken completely off-guard, was flung down the stairs. As the two girls shrieked and ran to Embyr's side, Victoria burst through the French doors of his shared room, and Rogerik blinked in slow surprise before finally crashing into reality and rushed for an icepack, nothing escaped the cat.

Especially not the black shadow that hovered over the stairs, face hidden underneath a hood.

"...In like a lion," the familiar intoned. He doubted the end of this would compare to any fuzzy lamb.

* * *

Since that meeting in February, where the necromancer had added his own advice to her problem solving, Rachel had been wondering what to do with the large amount of students over the vacation. Although a good number of them would return to their family for the weeklong vacation, an equally large amount of the student population chose to go on the field trips or didn't have a home to go back to. Obviously, not every student left at the campus could go on a field trip, and this presented quite the dilemma. Just what would she do with those extra students?

Leaving them on-campus, like what usually happened, was out of the question with Michealangelo's gargantuan exorcism planned for that week. The school couldn't afford for all of them to the mountain-springs that had been rented to them.

She turned the corner of the office hallway, and made a rather ungraceful attempt to dodge Shikyo as the cat demon was caught in her path of rampage. In fact, he wasn't the first faculty she had come across in her mad pacing; what made her stop and finally stare at him was when he asked her what was wrong. That, and the fact he had gone into a bought of hopping on one leg when she accidentally bumped into him, claiming that he had only gotten the cast off earlier that week and already he was being attacked again.

"What do you think! The vacation! We have way too many students than we can handle."

"Oh," was all he could say, quite out-of-touch with her fragmented reply. Nursing his sore leg, he continued, "In any case, would you happen to have seen Ms. Hisagawa? She was supposed to run by my apartment and drop off those progress reports."

"Apartment..?"

"In town," he answered, and gingerly tried to limp off the throbbing pain in his shin. "What, did you think I slept underneath my desk every night?"

As he looked over at the headmistress, he could already see the gears turning in her head. "...Crap."

"No, not crap. I just got a good idea..." Rachel pursed her lips, working out the details even as Shikyo looked at her as if she had suddenly poked him with a cherry-red cattle brand.

"Please tell me this doesn't involve me in any way."

"No, you're still chaperoning the field trip." Before the teacher could sigh in relief, though, she carried right along. "I'm actually thinking of sending out a notice downtown, to ask if any of the inns would be willing to take in some students and teachers for the week, at least until the Laird is done."

"So I'm safe?" It seemed much too hopeful; he had expected Rachel to take the bit in her teeth and run.

"No."

And run she did.

* * *

Happy Thanksgiving, folks. It's snowing, up here. x.xHope you enjoy your turkey-day with the family. Oh, and I would suggest bringing survival gear and GPS tracking devices along with you if you're going X-mas shopping tomorrow. ;; 


End file.
